Akigakki (Fall Semester): Autumn in America
by lammd0
Summary: あき学期。 Akigakki: alternate universe story: 16-year old Shun Kodori moves from his hometown in Japan to a Detroit suburb after his dad gets a job promotion. As he gets used to American life, with its pleasant surprises and baffling oddities, he encounters a 19-year old college student and musician, Kouya Aotsuki, who makes him feel something he never felt before- love.
1. Chapter 1: The welcome

Chapter 1: The welcome

A Japanese teenage wolf-boy, dressed in a dark blue kimono, ventured into a calm, lush forest around a Shinto shrine. Dusk was turning into night, and the 16-year old looked up towards the stars, wondering what was up there. The night sky was giving the otherwise green forest a dull hue. There was a slight wind that caused his straight, dark brown hair to rustle a bit. One lone strand of hair sticking up fluttered around. Then he heard a tender female voice.

"What are you doing here?" it asked, speaking Japanese fluidly and elegantly.

"I'm looking for something…" the wolf-boy answered in his high-pitched voice. But he didn't know quite what he was looking for.

"Someone?" the voice asked, "Maybe you should look for someone. Maybe someone you love?"

"But I haven't fallen in love yet…"

"So who think it will it be?" the voice asked.

"I don't know," the wolf-boy stammered.

"Take your time… you'll figure it out," the voice answered.

Then the wail of a small gray digital alarm clock, reading "6:30" ended the dream, the young fellow woke up, snapped out of it. He wondered what the heck he was dreaming about as he disarmed the alarm clock. It then hit him… it was his last day in Japan. Tomorrow he was going to be in the United States! He emerged from the aqua blue bedsheets and got out of bed. His small bedroom had been cleared of many of his possessions. The bookcase was empty. All that was on his desk next to his bed was his Japanese passport, his clothes, his Nintendo 3DS, and an aqua blue backpack. The wolf-boy's father had written his name, "古酉 峻 Shun Kodori" in Japanese and English in black pen on the backpack's front pocket. Shun's name had been meticulously written on everything else he was taking with him: the 3DS he usually kept in his pocket, the video game consoles that were in his checked luggage, his English books in his backpack, and even on the back tags of his underwear. He was all ready to go.

After the wolf-boy took off his pajamas and folded them, he briefly observed himself in the mirror on the door. Shun, only wearing white briefs, was clearly quite short and skinny. At 157 centimeters and 47 kilograms, or 5 foot one and 103 pounds, was already smaller than most of his classmates at his old school in Japan. He remembered hearing from his friends that Americans are bigger than Japanese people. When he had taken trips to Yokohama and Tokyo, the foreigners there seemed really big. "Am I going to be the smallest person in my class, let alone the entire school?" he thought. Then as he walked towards his desk to get his clothes, felt a sense of relief that he wasn't going to have to put on a school uniform every morning like he did back in Japan. Street clothes were far more comfortable! Shun slipped on a plain white T-shirt and khaki shorts, then pulled on his oversized blue and white hoodie sweater, which made him appear larger than he really was. He smiled at the realization that his casual clothes in Japan were going to be his new school wardrobe in the U.S., and he relished the thought of getting to wear his favorite outfit _every day_! After packing his pajamas in his backpack, he took his 3DS, his cell phone, and his Japanese passport and placed them in his pockets. After slipping on his backpack, Shun walked downstairs to the living area, where he saw what was going to be his checked luggage in large black bags. He noticed an average sized, middle-aged balding wolf-man wearing a green polo shirt and khaki slacks sitting at his study desk, checking the status of their flight on the computer.

A slender wolf-woman who walked into the room from the kitchen suddenly approached him, greeting him with "Look who's up!" This was his mother, Yukie. She wore a pink apron over her a white button-down shirt with a collar and her knee-length khaki skirt. Her hair was cropped fairly short, with the hair slightly longer at the front. She had been cooking so her apron looked a bit stained.

"Hi, Mom!" Shun greeted.

"I made some breakfast. Why don't you have some?" Yukie asked.

"Yes, please!" Shun responded.

The wolf-man said, "Shun, our flight's leaving on time. We need to be out of the house by 7:45 so we can get to Narita plenty early." That was Shun's father, Ryo Kodori, the reason why Shun was coming to the U.S. He had been promoted, and he was now Vice President Kodori of Nissan Motor Company's offices in the suburbs of Detroit, Michigan. He was to start work the day after his plane arrives.

"Do you want us to take you to the train station?" Yukie asked.

"Yes, Yukie. I think it'll be a good place to say goodbye. Minasato Station was where we first met before we married. It'll be important for you and for Dad," Ryo said.

Shun said, "Mommy, I wish you could have come with us, but I know Iwao-sama needs you here."

"I'm going to miss you too, Shun. But you'll get to see your cousin Gaku. He'll be glad to see you in person! You'll get to do so many fun things!" Yukie replied. "Anyway, why don't you come in and eat?" Shun's father printed out the information for the flight and filed it in his black suitcase as Shun entered the small, bright Japanese kitchen. His grandfather, Iwao, was sitting at the dining table while wearing a gray yukata. Yukie placed miso soup, nattō, yakizakana grilled fish, and white rice for Shun and Iwao.

After drinking his soup, Shun asked, "Iwao-sama, you're coming to the station, right?"

"Yes." After a beat, Iwao asked, "Why couldn't you stay here?"

"Dad said that this would be a good opportunity to practice my English. He says there will be a lot of opportunities for me if I learn English."

"Without you I'll have to find someone else to perform the ceremonies during the year."

"Dad said I can do the ceremonies in America."

"It's not the same," Iwao sighed as Shun ate his rice. Iwao's food had been left untouched. Shun polished off the fish and the nattō, his last home-cooked meal in Japan. Shun's licked his lips to get the last bit of flavor, a testament to his mother's cooking skills.

After a moment, Shun's father said, "Shun, you have some guests at the door. They are here to say goodbye."

"Lemme see them!" Shun said as he left the table. He slipped on his sandals just as he opened the door. There he saw three humans, an elderly man and an elderly woman wearing red and white kimono, both looking quite weathered, and a fairly large boy dressed in a white T-shirt and blue jeans. He had a bit of pudge.

"Hiroyuki-san?" Shun asked as he walked out of the house.

"It's me," he replied. He was Hiroyuki Nishimura, a boy who had lived in Minasato but had moved to Tokyo several years ago. He was visiting his grandparents for the summer.

"You are going back to Tokyo in a few days, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"I'm leaving today, Hiroyuki-san."

"Well, I thought _I_ was going far away. Now you're not going to be here when I visit…"

"I might go back to Japan over the summer," Shun said.

"Yeah, Shun-kun, but I don't know if you'll be here for the whole summer. I mean there's plenty of things to do in America and I know you'll be at the Grand Canyon or something."

"But I might be here on Obon!" Shun said. Over the summer Shun and Hiroyuki had played video games at his house. But within the last week or so, Hiroyuki wanted to visit Shun every day. Shun wasn't quite sure why, but Hiroyuki looked especially distressed those last several days, even though Hiroyuki himself said goodbye to Minasato and Shun every summer.

Shun's father said, "Yukie, it's getting close to 7:45! Let's load the stuff in the car!"

"What I wanted to say is…" Hiroyuki started. He blushed somewhat, but couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Do you want my Facebook?" Shun asked.

"I have it already!" Hiroyuki cried.

"Oh yeah," Shun realized. "So, is there something you want?"

"N-n, forget about it, it's stupid," Hiroyuki sighed. But his face reddened more. Iwao and Yukie emerged from the house. Iwao hobbled and stood at an angle, using a cane to help prop himself up

"Hiroyuki-san, thank you for coming to see me," Shun said.

Ryo, having finished loading up the gray Nissan Altima parked in front of the Kodori residence, said, "Shun, it's time to go!" Yukie was just locking the door of the Kodori residence.

Shun said to Hiroyuki, "I'm leaving now! Have a good trip to Tokyo!" Hiroyuki suddenly gave Shun a bear hug. Shun was puzzled, since Hiroyuki had never hugged him like this before. But he let Hiroyuki embrace him.

After he stopped the embrace, Hiroyuki said, "G-goodbye…" as Shun, Iwao, and Yukie entered the Altima. Shun waved goodbye as the vehicle drove off. Hiroyuki burst into tears as his grandparents began to comfort him.

The vehicle cruised through Minasato, twisting through the residential subdivisions of the placid Yokohama suburb. As the Kodori house passed through the rear view mirror, the realization sank through. Shun's mother stiffened as she twisted the wheel of the sedan, the last drive-on-the-left car Shun would sit in for awhile. Shun's father, who sat in the left-hand side as the passenger, clutched his black backpack that sat on his lap. Shun's grandfather, sitting behind Yukie, sat in stone cold silence. Shun, sitting behind his father, couldn't concentrate well on the Tetris game on his 3DS. Normally he could clear the first several rounds with ease, but he kept finding himself placing blocks in the wrong places. A frustrated Shun turned off the game, pulled it out of the DS, and placed it back into his blue gaming pack. He fumbled for another game when he suddenly felt the vehicle stop. It didn't move. He looked out the window and saw "水郷駅 Minasato Station" in green letters on the concrete building in front of him. He's there!

Yukie put the sedan in park as Ryo exited the vehicle and placed his backpack on the curb. After Yukie pressed the button that popped the trunk, Ryo pulled out a large black duffel bag and a large black suitcase. Then he reached in and pulled out a smaller black suitcase. Ryo walked up to left-hand rear side and opened the door for Shun. Shun grabbed his backpack and walked out the door with his father. Yukie opened the left-hand rear door to let Iwao out. Yukie gently led Iwao to the station entrance, where Ryo had led Shun.

"Honey, I guess this is where we say goodbye," Ryo said. Yukie hugged her husband. After she ended her embrace of Ryo, she moved to her son, whose eyes began to well up with tears.

"Have fun in America! Don't forget to tell us when you safely arrive in Detroit!" Yukie cried. The tone in her voice sounded pained as much as it was proud. She continued, "We'll Skype after you get settled in your home, and," she started. But she sniffed and held a tissue to her face. Shun himself hugged his mother and began to cry, because his mother couldn't come with him. All she could do is rub and pat his back. His grandfather sighed. Shun's cries ebbed and he sniffed as he left his mother's embrace. Shun then proceeded to slip on his backpack, as his parents and grandfather watched. Then he walked up to the suitcases. His small hands grabbed the little suitcase and he held it upright. Then he cracked a smile and wiped off his tears.

"I'm ready, Dad," he said. It was time to go. Shun then disappeared into the station with his father as his mother and grandfather looked on.

Shun and his father went through the JR Minasato Station to board the Tokaidō Shinkansen Line to Tōkyō Station. From there they took the Narita Airport Express to Narita Airport Terminal 1. Shun and his father lugged their bags from the train platform, up the elevator, to the Delta Air Lines ticket counter, where they checked the duffel bag and the two suitcases. And after presenting their passports they received the tickets for Flight 276 to Detroit. After going through passport exit control and security Shun and his father walked through Terminal 1, heading towards their gate. The drab 1970s era terminal had black signs with white lettering in Japanese and English, mundane gray carpeting, and colorless walls and ceilings. While the terminal had little flavor, the scenery was quite enticing. The two passed by rows of airplanes in various liveries, from countries around the globe, and passengers dressed in casual backpacking outfits, to formal business attire adorned with colorful ties, to ethnic garb from faraway countries that Shun didn't recognize. A few groups of elegant flight attendants, stuck together like animal packs, passed them by. As the two snaked their way through the terminal, through the windows, a large white Boeing 747-400 with a blue tail that was adorned with red triangle beckoned before them. The massive jet had four engines total, and had a partial upper deck that formed a second row of windows. Shun noticed the LED signs at Gate 24 reading "出発時間 Departure: 14:45 (2:45 PM) 便名 Flight No: DL 276 行先/経由地 To/Via: デトロイDetroit 備考 Remarks: 定刻 On Time" - That was his gate! That was his plane!

Shun's father nudged him and asked "You know we're flying first class, right?"

"Hafu! Really?"

"The company's paying for it!"

"Wow!" Shun cried. He had never been on first class before! He had never flown on a foreign airline before either. As Shun and his father walked around the waiting area to look for a seat, Shun heard the conversations in English from the passengers sitting in the benches at the departure lounge. Sure, there were echoes of Japanese and a bit of Mandarin Chinese from the Taiwanese, who were continuing from Flight 276's origin in Taipei, and from some Mainland Chinese who were going to the U.S. to be college students and boarding high school students. But the English stood out; it was his first taste of the United States.

As he and his father were about to sit down, the gate agent announced that Flight 276 was preparing to board, and BusinessElite first class passengers were to board first. Shun's heart raced as he and his father waited in line, went forward, and fed their tickets to the gate agent. That was his first cue. As the two walked down the jet bridge and entered the 747, Shun heard the aircraft's distinct hum and smelled a faint aviation fuel odor. That was his second cue. On the plane, Shun's father directed him up the stairs to a spacious blue leather window seat in Seat 77A, on the aft side of the upper deck; Ryo sat behind him in Seat 78A. Shun couldn't play his games, for he was too anxious to watch his departure from the window, as the plane backed away from the gate, taxied onto the runway, sped down the runway and then lifted off the ground with the jet's four engines roaring. Japan disappeared from Shun's view, and all he could see below was the Pacific Ocean. That was his third cue… that he was starting a new life.

Throughout the flight Shun, out of place among the well-dressed, middle aged Japanese businessmen and the business-casual, younger Americans, tried some of the games on the in-flight entertainment system. But the controls didn't work so well and Shun decided he'd rather just play the games on his 3Ds. At first he wondered what America looked like. What would his room look like? His school? Those were mysteries that would be solved within the next day or two, and Shun was happy to play detective. Then he thought of his cousin, 29-year old Gaku Kodori. He was an engineer for the same company his Dad works for, and had been working in the suburbs of Detroit for two years. Every New Years Gaku sent Shun several games he bought with his hard-earned money, and Shun really appreciated that. Shun looked forward to seeing his cousin in person. Maybe they'd enjoy playing video games together! It would be a nice way to thank him! The plane sped through the daytime, punching into dusk. While Shun wasn't too keen on the in-flight games, Shun relished the first class meal of blue cheese sauce-covered beef, potatoes, and green beans; he thought he'd try a western meal since he was going to the west. His father took the Japanese option, having a multi-course traditional meal. Then dusk became darkness, and the plane windows were shuttered. Shun slept with the red airline blanket hunched on him as the plane lighting dimmed. Then bright dawnlight pierced the cabin as the windows were raised, and Shun woke up to have a French-style continental breakfast consisting of a croissant, jam, fruit, and orange juice. The fruit and juice tasted fresh, while the croissant was quite buttery.

Sometime after breakfast, Shun peered out the window again. The crisp green trees of the Midwestern United States were in view. Various lakes dotted the landscape. Farming plots of the Michigan countryside, and then tract housing of the Detroit suburbs emerged. Shun watched eagerly as the cars on the roads grew closer and closer. Then a runway came into view; that was Detroit Wayne County Metropolitan Airport in Romulus, Michigan. Shun looked out the window as the ground grew closer and closer, as plane touched down somewhat roughly with the engine briefly roaring, as the numerous tails of Delta planes came into view, as the flight attendant over the PA welcomed the passengers to Detroit and stated the time and ground temperature and another flight attendant repeated everything in Japanese, and as the plane pulled up to the sleek McNamara Terminal, where Shun and Ryo disembarked. It was a little after noon, Detroit time.

Shun and his father were processed through Customs and Immigration along with the other passengers arriving from Narita. The very first thing Shun noticed were the exit signs; instead of being green "men" figures the indicators were green "EXIT" words. During the Customs process they collected the three bags they had checked through. Ryo, weary from traveling, groaned as he pulled the heavy suitcase and held the heavy duffel bag. Shun and his father had been in the air for eleven and a half hours, and they felt tired. Shun noticed that the conversations he heard were entirely English. As he exited customs he saw a morbidly obese woman wearing a sun dress and a straw hat. Her hips were so wide. The balding man with her had a very large beer belly that caused his blue polo shirt to poke out of his khakis. It was unthinkable to see people this fat in Japan! Unlike Narita Terminal 1, the McNamara Terminal was shiny and sleek, with its white tile floors, its metallic open-air framing, and its sharp terminal signage. The signage in the terminal, in the same colors as it was at Narita, was mostly in English, though Japanese was present on many of the signs.

Ryo and Shun walked past a small army of various meeters and greeters, some holding up signs reading "Amy Jones" or "Charles Smith" or "Johnson," and the arrivals hall echoed with happy reunions and confused travelers on cell phones asking why their rides weren't there. Suddenly Shun and Ryo caught a white paper sign reading "古酉 Kodori." The bespectacled white cat-man holding the sign, elegantly dressed in a white shirt, gray vest and slacks, and red bow tie, smiled upon recognizing Ryo Kodori. Next to him was a bespectacled young woman in a chic black business suit and white blouse. Her straight, sleek black hair was radiant and ended at her back.

"Vice President Kodori, welcome to the United States!" the woman greeted in Japanese as she bowed. "I am your secretary, Hiroko Tamura. Your driver today is Tsukishiro Amaki," she announced as she pointed to the cat-man, "He'll take you to your new home and he'll be happy to be of service as you work for our office in Detroit."

"Thank you," Ryo responded.

"We'll take your bags," Amaki announced as he crammed the thin paper sign into his pocket. He then took the reins of the heavier suitcase from Ryo. Tamura took the duffel bag from Ryo and the smaller suitcase from Shun.

"You must be Shun-kun. Are ready to go to your new home?" Tamura asked Shun.

Shun gave an eager smile and answered, "I'm ready!"

After Amaki and Tamura led Shun and his father out of the arrivals area and into the terminal's parking garage, Shun noticed something about the cars parked inside. In Japan the cars were mostly Japanese, fairly petite, and drove on the left: Toyotas, Hondas, Nissans, and Suzukis. But now he saw many Fords, Jeeps, Chryslers, Dodges, BMWs, Kias, Hyundais, and Mercedes cars mixed in with the Japanese brands. And they all had the steering wheels on the left.. and drove on the right! They seemed to be bigger too… maybe to accommodate the larger, fatter Americans? Even the Japanese cars were bigger here than they were in Japan! The maroon Toyota Tundra Shun passed by was ginormous!

Amaki lead Shun and Ryo to a plain white Nissan NV van. He took the steering wheel as Tamura sat in the passenger side seat on the right. Ryo and Shun sat in the bench seat behind them. Amaki started the car and drove out of the terminal, and Shun could see the wide-open expanses of the airport grounds. He was momentarily shocked upon realizing that the van was traveling on the right, rather than on the left! The vehicle turned onto Eureka Road, which quickly connected to Interstate 275. As the vehicle headed north on the interstate, Shun was busy playing Tetris on his 3DS; this time his mojo was back and he was doing pretty well. Shun's father had Tamura use her Blackberry to send an e-mail to Yukie telling her that Ryo and Shun had arrived to Detroit safely, and after that was talking about work-related stuff with her. Amaki was whistling as he drove up the interstate.

Shun asked, "Dad, is Gaku-san going to be meeting us when we get to our house?"

"No, Shun, he's taking a trip to New York right now, but he'll be back very late tonight since he's going back to work tomorrow," Ryo replied.

Tamura asked, "Shun-kun, has your father told you about where we are going?"

Shun paused the game, looked up, and answered, "Well, not a lot."

Tamura explained, "You will be living in a town called 'Novi' and it's quite close to your Dad's workplace. There are lots of Japanese people like your father who are working for us and for other companies in the area, so there are lots of Japanese people living in where you are going to be."

"Wow," Shun exclaimed. "So that means the grocery store will have Japanese food?"

"There's an entire Japanese grocery store in Novi, and the regular grocery store there also has Japanese stuff."

"So that means I can buy ramune there!"

"Yep," Tamura said. "Novi's got lots of stuff for us Japanese!" Then she asked, "Are you ready to start school tomorrow, Shun-kun?"

"Oh yeah," Shun realized, "Dad told me I was starting school when I got here."

"You'll be going to Lakeside High School. It's the area public school, and you'll pick your courses at orientation tomorrow. It's not a formal entrance ceremony like you have in Japan; it'll be a short session introducing you to the school. The first year of a Japanese high school is equivalent to the second year of an American high school, or the 10th grade, so you won't be the youngest there. Our school year ends in May, but begins in August, so you are just beginning the school year here."

"I heard that I don't have to go to school on Saturdays," Shun beamed. That meant more time to play video games, right?

"Well," Tamura said, "technically not, but your Dad is putting you in a Saturday Japanese program so you won't fall behind in your Japanese." Shun's eyes widened and he gasped.

"Funyuu! But can't I take Japanese in school?" Shun asked.

"It doesn't offer courses for native speakers, only for non-native speakers."

"Dad, why didn't you tell me?" Shun cried.

"You didn't ask," Ryo explained. "and I was going to tell you anyway when you arrived." Amaki softly chuckled. Shun pouted; his dream of a five day school week had been shattered! As the vehicle entered an off-ramp, Shun could see a red water tower labeled "Twelve Oaks." Soon the vehicle had exited the interstate, and traveled down Novi Road. There, Shun saw strip mall after strip mall of nouveau Americana, not at all like the densely-built Japanese cities he was used to. It didn't look like there were any Japanese businesses; all of the signs were in English — as Shun watched, Fidelity Bank, Mobil, the United States Postal Service with the eagle logo, and China Café all came into view. Shun wondered if Tamura had been mistaken about this suburb having lots of Japanese people. After a few stoplights the van turned on West Ten Mile Road, where the strip malls gave way to tall trees that shielded the houses from the vehicle traffic. To Shun's left he saw a large brick complex set far back from the road. An American flag fluttered on the complex's lawn.

"There's your new school," Tamura announced as she pointed to his left.

"That's my school?"

"Yes, it's not like Japan or New York where the schools are tall. In many parts of America they are sprawled out and expansive." Shun was amazed at just how large stuff was in the U.S. The expanses were wide, and not cramped. The sky was open and visible.

Soon the van took a right turn onto a street labeled "Lakefront Drive," going into a residential subdivision. The two story houses, with their expansive lawns, brick exteriors, and wood siding, looked very similar to one another. The van then took a right turn onto an unassuming street labeled "Water Front Circle." After a moment it stopped outside of a two-story residence labeled with the number 55088. Like the others it had a brick exterior, beige wood paneling, a brown shingled roof, two stories, and a garage. The van pulled over to the curb and stopped. A shiny white Nissan Maxima was parked outside the garage.

"We're here," Tamura declared as she handed Ryo the keys to the house. The drive from the airport to the new Kodori house in Novi took about thirty minutes. "And Vice President, that is the car we are giving you as part of your package," she said as she pointed to the Maxima with the palm of her hand, before giving Ryo the keys to the Maxima.

"Thank you," Ryo said as he grabbed his backpack. Shun slipped the 3DS into his pocket and pulled on his backpack, which had been next to him. Amaki pulled out the bags from the back of the van.

Amaki said, "We'll help you carry them in," as he grabbed the larger suitcase. Ryo unlocked the door to the house to let the driver and secretary inside. The interior walls were bleached white, and the carpet was off-white. It was furnished and had a refrigerator, but there was no television, no microwave, and no refrigerator magnets. It was a blank slate. Everyone took their shoes off, leaving them by the back door.

Tamura, carrying the duffel bag and dragging the smaller suitcase, asked, "Who does which bag belong to?"

Ryo answered, "The bigger suitcase has my stuff, but Shun has the smaller suitcase and the duffel bag." The duffel bag had the games!

Amaki asked, "Are you are going to be in the first floor master bedroom, Vice President?"

"Yes, I'm taking that bedroom and Shun will be in one upstairs," Ryo answered. Amaki lugged the bag into the master bedroom.

Tamura asked Shun to come upstairs. After he went up he saw two doors across from each other.

"Which one do you want?" Tamura asked. Shun pointed to the one to the left, at random, and she dropped his stuff there. Shun grinned as he latched onto the duffel bag and unzipped it, causing Tamura to smile as she left the room. Shun meticulously unpacked his consoles and games from the bubble wrap meant to protect them in-transit, and lined them up next to the unmade bed. The room had no posters, no paint, and no special carpeting, but the games marked the room as Shun's. Shun noticed that the room seemed like it was twice the size of his room back in Japan. Not only were the cars in America bigger, but the houses were bigger too!

Suddenly Shun felt an urge to go to sleep, an urge pounding on his head. Even though it was only about 2 PM where he was, it was about 3 AM back in Japan and his body clock was still set to Japan time. The sleep he had on the flight had helped, but his body was now aching, desperate for sleep. But he remembered what his father told him… He sat on the floor and struggled to stay awake. Maybe if he went downstairs? Shun walked downstairs as the urge to sleep became heavier and heavier.

Shun asked, "Where did the secretary and the driver go?"

"They left."

"Oh… Dad, do you have a soda?"

Ryo answered, "I don't have one, Shun."

"I'm feeling really sleepy…"

"Well, see if you can stay up a while longer. You need to adjust to American time. Otherwise you'll wake up at 3 AM…"

"I'll try," Shun moaned. He looked around and found that there was a fluffy brown couch in the living room, with a glass table in front. Maybe he'll play his 3DS there. He walked over to the couch and sat down and resumed the Tetris game that he had stopped. For a while he did okay, but as the minutes went by his concentration began to waver. He put the 3DS on the table, and then his thoughts began to peter out. Shun slipped into a deep sleep…

For many hours, Shun Kodori remained under the haze of sleep… Finally he opened his eyes, and was greeted by a darkened room. It took a moment for him to get his bearings straight, but he was in a bedroom… his new American bedroom, and he was in his own bed, now made up with the same color blue sheets that his bed in Japan had. Shun pulled back his sheets to find that he was still dressed in the same clothes as before.

Shun's eyes, adjusting to the darkness, peered down on the floor and found that his father had hooked up an alarm clock on the floor… it was 3:58 AM. Okay, so not quite 3 AM, but still it was ridiculously early. Shun walked over to the light switch and turned it on. The light blinded him momentarily, but then his eyes adjusted. He realized he had to go pee. He left his bedroom and searched for the toilet in the hallway. He opened the door and found a small bathroom, with a white tile floor and white walls, that had just a toilet and a small shower with no curtain.

Shun was puzzled that there was a shower in that bathroom. Why would someone put it there, in the same room as the toilet? How would the person get to a bathtub? Shun was used to taking to a shower and cleaning himself with soap before rinsing off in the deep, piping hot bathtub, as is customary in Japan. It didn't add up why there would be no bathtub. While some of Shun's classmates back in Japan had watched a lot of American movies and television shows which had scenes with American-style bathrooms, Shun hadn't watched them, so he was unfamiliar with American bathrooms. After relieving himself and flushing the toilet, he noticed that the toilet didn't have all of the fancy options the Japanese toilet in his house had. That was a bummer.

As if on cue, his stomach growled. Shun's sudden pang of hunger forced him to walk downstairs. The previously empty kitchen was now stocked with goodies; the fridge was stocked with some vegetables, fruit, and eggs. The cupboards had instant ramen packets. Shun switched on the lights and quietly made himself a "chicken" flavor ramen cup in the microwave, after following the directions; he used a pair of plastic chopsticks his father had placed in the silverware drawer. The instant ramen that his Dad got while he was asleep tasted kind of salty. It didn't taste as good as the ramen he had in Japan, even the instant kinds. Shun threw away the cup and washed and dried the chopsticks, before placing them back into the drawer.

Shun knew he couldn't go back to bed, so he thought he may as well clean himself up. Normally he'd take a bath in the evening, but he didn't wake up til 4 AM, so he had to take one now. He looked around for the master bathroom on the bottom floor, but he didn't see one. All he could find was some closets and a small toilet room. He then figured it would be in the master bedroom. Shun tiptoed around an open door into his father's bedroom, which was dimly lit, and quietly slipped past the single door inside, before closing it and turning the lights on inside. He was sure not to wake his father up, for he would be quite cross with him! Shun, now inside the white tiled master bathroom, did not expect that the toilet and bathtub would be in the same room! The bathtub had not been filled with water; Shun had expected that his father would have kept the water in the tub after he used it. Shun looked in vain for a bathing bucket and a stool so he could take a shower. Then he realized that the shower and the bathtub were the same thing! How was he going to take a Japanese-style bath? He realized at that point that Americans bathe differently, but he wanted the traditional bath! For Shun, as with many Japanese, bathing was something relaxing to do, a ritual that was enjoyable at the end of the day. He really wanted to relax before he started school, and but he groaned when he realized he couldn't do it the way he did it back home.

Shun settled to try the strange American style. He slipped off his clothes and underpants and put them on the counter, and then stepped into the bathtub. There was no stool to sit on, and standing up felt foreign to him. He didn't want to sit down and make the bathtub dirty, and he saw that the nozzle was high up, so he stood. The floor of the tub seemed kind of slippery; maybe that's just how it feels? Then the position of the shower nozzle, already high up, wasn't adjustable. Seeing the colored dial he turned it all the way to the "red" part. The bathtub spout activated, causing water to go down the drain. Shun saw another lever and turned it, and as soon as the bathtub spout stopped, the shower above activated. The hot water stung, so he turned the temperature dial to the mid-position. Ahh… he felt the sense of relaxation he had hoped for. He grabbed the soap from the soap ledge and washed himself off. But the shampoo bottle had been placed on the rim of the back of the tub. Shun turned around and walked to pick up the shampoo bottle, but one of his feet gave way…

Shun slipped and hit his back, causing a thump to echo. He cried out, as his back hurt. Ryo, clad in a white sleeveless undershirt and striped blue and white boxers, barged into the room, flinging the door open. The thump had woken him up.

"Shun! Are you alright?"

"Dad," Shun moaned as he got up. It was apparent he wasn't seriously hurt. It took a moment for Shun to even realize what had happened. "I'm okay."

"You could have really hurt yourself."

"Dad, I… I didn't mean to do that…" he sighed.

Ryo shut the shower nozzle off and said "Sorry I didn't tell you this… the tub floor is slippery. It's better to take a bath if you're going down here. I'll try to get anti-skid marks installed later, okay?"

"Oh…" Ryo handed Shun a towel; Shun put it on after drying himself off. As his father picked up his clothes, Shun began to shiver since the water on him was turning cold.

"You should put on some fresh clothes," Ryo suggested, "I laid some out upstairs, by your door."

"Okay," Shun responded before he went upstairs. There Shun got dressed in a fresh set of street clothes and took the 3DS, which his father had left on the floor next to his backpack. Downstairs, Ryo had dressed himself in a charcoal business suit with a white oxford shirt and a red tie going to his belt buckle. He was sipping some green tea he had made.

As Shun re-appeared, Ryo, reading through some of the documents on the dining table, said, "I'll drop you off at school a little early because they will hold a mini-orientation for people who just arrived."

"When do I go to school?"

"8:30 is when school starts, but the orientation is at 6:30. It's 4:45 right now, so I could make an early breakfast. By the way, I'll try to get Gaku to pick you up at school."

"Cool!" Shun exclaimed. Ryo passed the time by filling out paperwork that he would need in the morning, and reading guides on living in the United States. Shun decided he would pass the time by playing Super Mario 64 DS, starting a new save file and playing with Yoshi; he got quite far as the time passed. Ryo briefly went upstairs, but returned with Shun's backpack in his hand.

"Want some miso soup?" Ryo asked.

The American ramen wasn't so great, so Shun answered "I'd love to!" Shun's dad went to the stove in the kitchen, which looked steelier and less lively than the one in Shun's old house in the Yokohama suburbs. Shun's father used some of the supplies he had obtained from the Japanese grocery store to whip up some miso soup. Ryo gave himself and Shun one bowl and one napkin each. Shun tipped the bowl and drank the soup. After the first swig, he continued, but didn't take as much.

"How is it?" Ryo asked, thinking that Shun was half-hearted about it.

"Hmm…" Shun started. Then he answered, "It's… good." In fact he felt it wasn't that good, but he didn't want to embarrass his father. He knew Ryo was trying, but his cooking didn't have the oopmh that Yukie's cooking had. Shun wished she was here to do cooking. That reminded him…

"Aren't we doing Skype with Mom?" Shun asked.

"Yeah, we'll do it after I'm back from work. It will be you, me, and Gaku. We'll use my laptop, but I'll get a desktop later." Thankfully Ryo didn't pick up on the connection Shun had made. Shun's soup was still half-full when Ryo checked his watch.

"It's six. Are you ready for school?" Ryo asked, "I put your school supplies in your backpack."

"I'm ready," Shun said.


	2. Chapter 1: The welcome, part 2

Ryo shut off the lights and, after locking the house, walked Shun into the Nissan Maxima his company gave him. The vehicle, which had comfortable, soft gray leather seating, had a fresh new car smell. The dawnlight was beginning to peek out as the day began. The vehicle backed out of the driveway and drove down Water Front Circle. After making a two left turns, the vehicle was on Ten Mile Road. Quickly Shun saw the mammoth red brick high school building approaching, getting larger and larger in his eye. His jaw dropped more and more upon processing the magnitude of the building. The sedan took a right turn past the large rectangular green sign reading "LAKESIDE SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL" in white letters. Nearby they noticed a black electronic display, which said "First day of school August 27" in orange letters, in the center. It took just ten minutes to drive to Shun's new school.

Ryo pulled into the visitor parking lot and parked the car. The school property was heavily wooded evergreen trees. Far from claustrophobic, the property was wide open, with the school building and various sports fields stretching into the horizon. The dawnlight gave the sky an orange glow.

Ryo asked, "So, what do you think?" Shun couldn't even speak; it was ginormous! After entering the building, Ryo saw the signs for orientation. For a moment Shun was confused about the lack of shoe lockers; then he remembered his father telling him the day before they left that people wear shoes indoors in America.

Shun and Ryo went down the corridors, decked in shiny white tile floors, white tile ceilings, and red brick walls snaking down the endless corridors. Rows of green doorways and shiny green lockers stretching into the beyond followed the wolf-boy and his father wherever they went as they traveled in the directions the "Orientation check-in" arrows plastered everywhere had stated. The two followed the signs to a check-in desk manned by an American woman in a red dress; the lady, who had blonde hair done in a ponytail, seemed to be in her mid-30s to early 40s. After signing in Shun and filling out his enrollment card, Ryo told the woman his son's TOEFL (Test of English as a Foreign Language) score, causing her to direct Shun to the main orientation. Ryo pulled out his wallet and said, "Here's some money for lunch. Tell me if you like American cafeteria food. If not you can pack lunches." Ryo handed Shun a five U.S. dollar bill.

Shun touched the money and it felt greasy. He sniffed the bill… yuck! It smelled bad. But he put it in his pocket anyway. Ryo said, "Well, have fun in your first day of school!"

Shun hugged his father and said, "I will, Daddy." He felt anxious about leaving Ryo, and a small tear began to form in his left eye, but Shun realized he had to get accustomed to his new school. Shun waved goodbye, with an eager smile on his face.

Shun entered the cafeteria/stage where the orientation was to be held. Normally it would be filled with tables, but they were all folded up and to the margins of the room. The side which he came from was decorated like the hallways but the other wall was a glass facade facing out open. The orange sunrise was giving way to a bright, beautiful sky. Shun noticed rows of yellow plastic chairs facing a podium to the inside wall. There were about maybe ninety to one hundred other students dressed in various styles of casual clothing. Some had blonde hair and ginger red hair, but many also had black, dark red, or dark brown hair. As Shun approached the seats and overheard the conversations, he heard some English, but he also picked up some Japanese. Many of these students were Japanese like him! Just like him their parents were assigned jobs in Michigan and had taken Shun's flight or other flights connecting through other U.S. cities the previous day. But as Shun sat down, he noticed one beast-girl who wasn't quite like the others.

The fox-girl didn't appear Japanese at all. Her black was wavy, ending at her shoulder. She had a very curvy body appearance, and her indigo denim jacket sharply stood out. Her indigo denim jeans were frayed at the bottom. Her gold heart necklace snaked across her white T-shirt with purple stripes. Her eyelashes were long, and they fluttered as she blinked. She didn't seem to be an American to him, but he wasn't sure where she came from. Suddenly the students stopped their talking and turned their attention to the podium. A Japanese-American woman, about five feet and seven inches tall, stood there. Being middle-aged, her face had a few wrinkles, but it was done with makeup tastefully. Her pink skirt, high heeled shoes, and shoulder-length black hair gave her a soft, warm appearance.

She announced in English, "Good morning students, welcome to Lakeside High School. My name is Mrs. Matsui and I work at the front office as a clerk. I will be the orientation director this morning. All of you are new to Lakeside High, and many of you are new to the United States and to Novi. Most of the students took the summer orientation, but because you just transferred or just arrived you will be taking an orientation just before classes start. Now I will be going over some basic facts about this school, and for the new arrivals to the U.S. For the Japanese students in the audience, I will be briefly going over some differences between the American schools and the Japanese schools." First she mentioned the school colors, green and white, and the team mascot, the tigers, which the school had borrowed from the Detroit Tigers baseball team. Then she mentioned several facts about the American school system for the Japanese audience. Among the facts she mentioned was that American students switch classes instead of staying in one room; that there will be no uniform for the students (Shun knew that already); that they say the pledge each morning instead of bowing to the teacher; that janitors took care of cleaning the classrooms, restrooms, and facilities and so students did not have to do this; and that each student can choose a variety of classes. Football was the big sport instead of baseball; and students could drive to school if they could get a parking sticker. That blew Shun's mind; the driving age in Japan was 20! Teenagers driving to school…

After going over orientation stuff, Mrs. Matsui announced "Now we will be putting you into groups of twenty and put you in different classrooms. You will each receive a paper asking questions about each of you, and you will have to go around the room and ask people if they have a certain characteristic in your checklist. If you have that characteristic, you cannot say 'I like frisbees!' Let other people figure it out. And when you do learn about it, don't blurt it out to everyone else. Let other people figure it out!" Shun recalled that one day before he left Minasato, Shun's father said that his new school sent an e-mail asking him some details about himself, including his favorite color and his favorite food. Now he knew why! "At registration each of you received a card," Matsui continued. Shun had been given a slip of paper, and it had a number, "88," on it. "Go to the room with that number, and we'll play the game there."

In the room, a bespectacled male teacher with a bald head, gray sideburns, and a gray mustache stoof at the door. His dark blue slacks, white shirt with a pocket protector, and checkered tie made him look like a stereotypical professor. The teacher handed each of the entering students a checklist. Shun quickly looked over the paper, written in English, of course. Some questions like "Who is from Kyoto?" "Who likes chocolate?" seemed like they would apply to several people in the room. But he noticed that the paper asked "Who has a birthday in the 4th of July?" That was the American Independence Day and it was Shun Kodori's birthday! Shun wasn't sure if other people in the room had the same birthday. After looking at the paper Shun observed the classroom. It had the brick wall, the spic and span tile, but it also had rows of desks around in a circle, facing a whiteboard with a podium. Mr. Simmons had written his name, "Samuel Simmons," in red dry erase marker at the top-left corner. The rules of the "game" discussed in the cafeteria had been written down too. Small flags of the United States and of the State of Michigan were on poles looming over the whiteboard. The desks had little cubbies underneath, void of books, paper, and trash. A lone computer was hooked up to the projector. The brick walls were plastered with posters: posters with George Washington's face, the text of the Declaration of Independence, a diagram of the U.S. Civil War, and "Mr. Simmons's rules for all classes." The windows revealed a beautiful sunny day outside, with the clouds looking like whipped cream.

The teacher cheerily announced, "I am Mr. Simmons, the teacher of American history. As you were directed, go around and play the game!" Shun went around and checked off the list. Soon various students began asking each other about the Fourth of July, but nobody thought to ask Shun if he had that as his birthday.

Then the girl who wasn't like the others approached him, and asked "Hey, uh, is your birthday July the Fourth?" Her English was in a clear Midwestern accent.

Shun, now speaking in English somewhat sluggishly, said, "Yes, my birthday is July Four."

"Born on Independence Day, huh? You have quite an accent," she remarked. Indeed, Shun Kodori had a heavy accent when he spoke English.

A red-faced Shun cried, "Hafu! Sorry, I don't know English that well."

"It's okay! It's cute! Don't worry about it! Your English is pretty good!" she said. "My name's Melinda Torres! I'm going to be in the 10th grade."

For a moment Shun thought of his last name, but realized that Americans use their first names, so he said, "I am a 10th grade student, Shun... Shun Kodori."

"Pleased to meet you, Shun!" she said, pronouncing the name correctly; to say Shun's name in English it sort of rhymed with "moon." And, yep, in America he is to go by a first name basis! "So, you are Japanese, right?"

"Yes, I am Japanese." Then he asked, "Melinda, what are you?"

"Oh, I am American, but I'm Mexican also," she answered.

"American and Mexican?" he asked.

"I was born in Detroit but my parents are from Mexico. Many like me think of themselves as Mexican because we have a different culture than many of the White people here. " Then she noticed something dangling off of Shun's backpack, which. It was a plush Mario figure. "Ah, that's so cute!" she said as she turned to his backpack and felt the plush. Her fingernails had been painted pink.

"Thank you! You can have it," Shun said as he started unhooking the Mario plush.

"You don't have to give it to me!" she said.

"No, please have it," Shun insisted.

"I don't want it!" she responded. Shun started tearing up.. He was seriously beginning to cry. She didn't want it, and that made him feel bad.

"Oh no, no, don't cry," she pleaded as she watched the disaster unfold. Shun's cherubic appearance made it painful for her to watch him cry. Despite her initial please, he sobbed anyway. She took her finger to his chin and had him stare in his eye. "When we compliment something we don't necessarily want it. I want you to have that item. It's cute, but I do not need to have it." After a moment, his sobs ended. Melinda patted his back and said, "It's alright, Shun."

When he recovered, he asked, "Melinda, do you play video games?" he asked.

"Yeah, for fun!" she answered. "I like Mario games myself, and my boyfriend likes _Counter Strike_."

Shun beamed and said, "Cool! I like many kinds of video games!" He whipped out his 3DS and continued, "I have many games here, that I got from Japan! I have games for this one and for my consoles too."

"What games do you have?"

"I have _Super Mario 64 DS_, _Tetris DS_, _Dairantō Smash Brothers X_ …"

"What's that?" a puzzled Melinda interrupted.

" It is the last _Dairantō Smash Brothers_ game, with Meta-Knight."

After a beat Melinda realized "_Super Smash Brothers_! You mean _Super Smash Brothers Brawl_?" she asked, "I think that game has a different title here."

"That makes sense," Shun concluded.

"That's an awesome game! Did you bring your consoles from Japan?"

"I did take them with me! I have a Wii, a PSP, and a Playstation 3 as well as a 3DS."

"Wow!"

Then Mr. Simmons asked, "Are you all finished? Have you gotten them all?" Melinda and Shun checked their lists.

"Funyuu! I am not finished!" Shun cried.

"Me neither!" Melinda shreiked, "I'll see you later!" she said as she went around the room.

Eventually the two got their checklist done, and it was time to select courses. Mrs. Matsui told the students to wait in line at the counselor's office. There, the counselor was to register each student.

When it was Shun's turn, he sat in a plush green chair. The counselor's office was filled row to row with books he would never read. The woman on the computer was the blonde woman at check-in.

"Good morning, Shunn," she said, pronouncing it like the English word "shun" as in to avoid.

"Shun," he corrected. He felt somewhat annoyed that she had mis-pronounced his name, but he expected that the Americans would have some difficulty in saying it the first time.

"Okay, Shoon," she said, "I am Mrs. Davis. I am pleased to meet you. You have a choice between electives, but because you came in here late you don't have very many choices. For social sciences all we have is space in American history."

"American history," Shun gasped, "I do not know much about that."

"Well, you'll have to learn quickly. Maybe you can choose the regular course."

"Dad said that my grandfather wanted me to take IB courses because he wants universities in Japan to recognize my grades." IB means International Baccalaureate, the prestigious international school program.

"We'll, if you do that you'll have to learn _really_ quickly," she cautioned, "most of the people taking them are American students."

After a moment, "I will do the IB course," he answered.

"IB for everything else?" she asked.

"Yes." Soon he got his schedule, and was told to pick up his textbooks in the campus library. It was quite a ways away from the counselor's office, but it wasn't that bad of a walk. The library itself had rows and rows of books stemming from the front lobby, where the librarian was handing books to students. After presenting his schedule to the librarian he got his textbooks. His once empty backpack was filled, and it weighed a ton. Shun's backpack felt like it was going to weigh him down, so Shun resolved to holding some of his textbooks with his arms, but even that felt heavy. The librarian told him to wait inside until the bell rang, and then he would go to his homeroom. On the schedule it said "Donald Simmons Rm 88" was his homeroom teacher. Then first period was "IB US HISTORY - SIMMONS - Rm 88" - The same room!

The cry of the school bell over the PA was Shun's signal to bolt from the library. Almost immediately the entire population of Lakeside High School flooded the halls, and Shun Kodori had to nudge past the crowds to go between the library and his homeroom. While the students came in many shapes and sizes, in many types of clothing (some grungy, some fabulous and immaculate), and many hair styles (some of them unnaturally colored in green, purple, and pink… maybe a mohawk or two!), almost everybody was taller than, if not towering over, Shun. The few who were at his height or, gasp, shorter than him were 9th graders—freshmen. Shun Kodori was the smallest sophomore at Lakeside High, and the unfamiliar environment overwhelmed his senses and caused his heart to beat faster. And thanks to those ridiculously heavy textbooks it took ages until Shun could make it back to Mr. Simmons's room. Shun huffed and grunted until he finally made it to his homeroom, just as the bell rang. The counselor, Mrs. Davis, went over the PA system and asked the school' students to do the Pledge of Allegiance. Shun quickly saw his classmates place their right hands over their hearts. He looked around nervously, before hurriedly putting his left hand, not his right, over his heart.

When that was done, Mr. Simmons announced "Before we get started I'm going to call roll. I apologize if I get your name wrong, so please correct me if I do." After a breath, he started, "Johnny Hicks."

"Here," the boy responded.

"Grace Hill,"

"Here," the girl replied. So far so good, and he continued reading down the list.

But Mr. Simmons got to the first Japanese name, "Sanae Iguchi" and he pronounced it like "Sanayy Aiguhchai." The poor girl had to correct him after her name had been so brutally massacred, and he went down the list further. Then he announced "Shunn Kodorry."

"Shun Kodori" the wolf-boy corrected with a sigh.

After finishing the roll call and braving the groans from the Japanese students and other students with tricky names, Mr. Simmons handed out the handbooks (Shun had to sign his) and then assigned lockers by giving slips of paper. Finally Shun was able to dispose of those meddlesome books! His locker was right outside of Mr. Simmons's door… how convenient! He checked the number of the locker.. his was on the top row. Shun exerted himself while lifting the books he doesn't need for the next several periods into the cold metallic inside, and…

"Why are you taking up all of that space?" a deep male voice asked. Shun turned around and saw a tall fellow about 6'3, bright purple polo shirt, khaki trousers, and almost-buzz cropped bleach blond hair. On top of being well built he was fairly muscular, and therefore well suited for a top locker.

"Those are all of my books," Shun answered in his thick accent.

"It's my locker too. We're sharing it." The boy had something of a frown on his face.

"Hafu! Then what do I do with my books?"

"You put the books you need for the first half of the day in your backpack, then after your lunch you switch with the books for the second half." Shun noticed that the boy sounded extremely irritated.

"Really?" Shun asked.

"That's how you are supposed to do it," the tall boy sighed.

"Anyway, I am Shun," the wolf-boy said as he pulled out the books he needed for his next periods.

"Gene," he said rapid-fire as he then put in his own books. One had a book cover labeled "Eugene Kent," his full name.

"Well I am pleased to meet you," Shun said, offering his hand.

"Whatever," Gene sighed as he walked back in the room, without shaking Shun's hand. Shun's heart sank. Did he do something wrong? For the rest of the period he slumped on his desk and sighed. Then he reasoned that maybe Gene just had a bad day. Shun promised himself that he'd be courteous to others, so he wouldn't make them feel bad.

Shun stayed in the room since his first class was literally in the same room. But almost everybody else filed out of the room, and in their place, a fresh batch of students coming from all over the school. As Shun sat at his desk, a familiar face sat right next to him.

"Heeyy!" Melinda greeted, "I didn't know you were going to be in my class!"

"I signed up for it when I got here," Shun responded.

"So, did you go to an international school in Japan?" Melinda asked.

"No, it was a regular school," Shun answered.

"So you never took American history."

" No, I never took that class."

"Are you sure you want to be in this class?"

"Well my grandfather and my dad told me I need to be in all of the high level classes. And my grandfather says that American schools aren't as good…"

"Okay.." she said hesitantly, somewhat annoyed not at Shun, but at his grandfather for telling him that. The bell rang, but the conversation continued.

"So, did you just start attending this school?" Shun asked.

"Yeah, I went to a Catholic school in Detroit. But my brother went to the army and so my Dad and I moved into his apartment in Novi. It made more sense for me to move, and I didn't like my old high school anyway. So that's why I'm here!" Then Shun noticed the entire class staring at both them. Mr. Simmons was tapping his foot impatiently.

"Sorry," Melinda shortly said as she refocused her attention on the teacher.

"Mr. Simmons, I apologize! I'm so sorry!" Shun cried as he stood up briefly. The class laughed in response and Shun sat down, feeling agitated.

Melinda whispered, "You don't need to do that!" to Shun.

Mr. Simmons passed out the class syllabus to everyone in the room. Shun took one look, and scratched his head at some of the terms. "French and Indian War." "War of 1812." "Reconstruction." He never learned those terms in his classes in Japan. Something told him that he needed to learn this stuff fast.

Then he went through his other classes, marked by rings of the school bell. The Physical Education class was held in a large gymnasium with oily wood floors, retractable wooden bleacher benches, and brick tile with the cartoon tiger mascot painted on. The students didn't dress up for class as it was just the first day; the coaches, one of whom looked oddly fat, just gave a brief intro, but they told him that he needed to buy a gym uniform. Shun made a mental note that Gaku needed to buy a PE uniform and tennis shoes for him for tomorrow, probably in the smallest sizes possible. Then he had Algebra II, which seemed like it wouldn't be so bad. Each class seemed like it lasted far shorter than it should, and between classes he frequently got lost, having to ask students for help on where to find stuff. All the rooms were decorated similarly, with the whiteboards and the flags, except in the Alegbra class the posters had formulas and images of mathematicians, and the Chemistry class had images of chemical beakers and definitions of words like "mole."

Then it came for lunchtime! In the cafeteria, all of the tables had now been unfolded, and it was crammed with hundreds of students getting a bite to eat. Shun sat at a circular table, having gone through the lunch line. Shun's white foam tray had a full meal priced at $1.75: one grilled cheese sandwich, a cup of broccoli, and a paper pint container of milk. Shun took a bite. Whoa! This was salty! Shun spat up some of the sandwich. Oh man! Then the broccoli tasted like it just wasn't cooked right. He didn't spit that out, but he didn't take another bite either. All he could do was drink the milk. Man, this was unedible! Blah! All he could do was… play video games. Shun pulled out a Game Boy Advance from his backpack and then considered which pack to put in… Shun was so engrossed in deciding which game to pick that he didn't hear the rapid-fire keystrokes coming from behind. Behind Shun was a deer-boy wearing a green and black patterned flannel jacket, a black T-shirt with a "blue screen of death" image printed on the front side, gray sweatpants, and red Chuck Converse sneakers, sitting at another table, using a gray laptop computer. His tomato red hair was swirled in curls, and a pair of horns stuck out like errant branches on an otherwise well-tended tree.

Shun picked Battletoads, an old Game Boy game. Shun kept onto his Game Boy Advance just so he could play the old stuff; it was backwards compatible with old Game Boy games. Then a familiar face sat down next to Shun. She held a rolled up brown bag.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I came off as rude," she sighed.

"No, it's okay!" Shun responded.

"You don't need to do a profound apology for the teacher, okay? Just a quick sorry."

"Okay!" Shun said.

"You didn't seem to like your lunch," Melinda remarked.

Shun admitted, "It has a strange taste."

"Cafeteria food in America sucks. Here, have some of mine," Melinda offered as she unpacked her brown bag, revealing a blue cooling pack and a wad of aluminum foil. She unfurled the shiny foil, causing a crinkling sound, revealing a set of three corn tortillas wrapped around bits of pork, crisp cilantro, and chopped up onions. There were two small plastic packages of green sauce shaped like tears. A colorful slice of lime was nestled in between two of the tortillas.

"Tacos?"

"Yep! _Tacos al pastor_."

"Is that your favorite food?" Shun asked.

"No, it's pizza, especially the ones with garlic and spinach," she said, "I love that stuff. But I've been a little homesick, so I visited my boyfriend yesterday in Southwest Detroit. We went to a taco truck and got a bunch. I decided to have the leftovers for lunch. Had one before?"

"No, I have not."

"Well, I think you'll like them. Try one!" Shun paused his game and put it down for just a moment. Despite the fact that it was cold, it tasted fresh, not fatty like the cafeteria food was. The pork was tender and juicy and the onions and cilantro made it crisp and fresh.

"Good, huh?" Melinda asked.

"Mhmmm!" Shun muffled as he wolfed down the taco. As Melinda held hers in her hand, Shun he picked up his Game Boy Advance.

"What is that game?" Melinda asked.

"Battletoads!" Shun exclaimed, with a grin that stretched to both of his cheeks. The deer-boy on the computer overhead the conversation, and peered over Shun's shoulder for a moment. Then he got back to what he was doing.

"You seem to be really happy when you are playing video games," Melinda remarked.

"It is my favorite thing to do!" Shun said. Melinda watched Shun intently as he cleared stage after stage without too much difficulty. Shun had just finished defeating the "Wicked Wurm" of Stage 4.

The deer-boy turned around again, spying on Shun's game, and his mouth went agape in an "O" shape.

"Dude, what the fuck?" the boy said. His skin was marked with freckles, and he had quite a few pimples.

"Whoa, Tim, watch your language!" Melinda laughed.

"Tim?" Shun asked.

"He's this guy I met in my English class," Melinda answered, "he has his computer out in all of his classes I have with him." Tim scanned Shun's GBA for any signs of a Gameshark, even touching it with his fingers… but no dice.

"You just cleared, what, the first several stages of Battletoads.. and you didn't lose any lives, with no Gameshark," he gasped. His teeth had multicolored braces in red, white, and blue.

"My cousin got me this game from America," Shun explained, "and it seemed kind of hard, but I think it's interesting."

"Have you beaten it?"

"I have gotten close but I have not won yet," Shun answered.

"That's awesome! Hey, I'm Timothy Buckland."

"My name is Shun Kodori! Pleased to meet you!" They shook hands.

"Do you play PC games?"

"Sometimes on the computer," he said, pronouncing the English word almost like the Japanese "Konpyūta"—"but I like consoles more."

"How did you get so good?"

"I do not know. I play all of the time."

"Cool! Have you heard of Portal?"

"Yes, they have _Portal_ in Japan!" Melinda smiled, seeing a new friendship blossom. This was a pretty cool first day of school for all three!

Shun's other classes went similarly, with Shun resigning himself to hearing his name pronounced as "Shunn." Maybe next time his teachers would remember? His last class of the day was English. The syllabus didn't seem so bad; he had read some English books before. After the final bell rang, Shun went to the carpool area. Shun kept his eyes peeled at the pick-up area scanning the rows of cars going through the pick-up-lane, opening their doors, closing their doors after a student or two got in, and driving away. Then a cherry red, shiny Nissan Altima pulled in. The driver had brown hair the same hue as Shun's but it was more bowl-shaped. He was a slender, emaciated-looking wolf-man who wore a plain white oxford shirt with gray dress slacks, but with no coat and no tie. His bony right hand rested on the steering wheel.

"Gaku-san!" Shun cried as he got into the car and sat in the passenger side black leather seat. It was Gaku Kodori, Shun's cousin. Gaku's car didn't have the factory fresh smell, but it was still quite new.

"Have you been well, Shun-kun?" Gaku asked in Japanese as Shun shut the door and put his backpack. Gaku's voice was kind of raspy, not smooth at all.

"I've been doing fine," Shun grinned, now speaking in his native tongue.

"First day of school went well?"

"Yes. I made some American friends!"

"You made some new friends already?" His voice didn't sound so energetic, and Gaku looked like he was scowling, but Shun knew inside that his dear cousin was quite happy.

"Yup!"

"I'm glad. Well I need to pick up some things from the Japanese grocery. Why don't you come along?" Gaku asked. After Shun agreed, Shun spent the car ride talking about the new friends he made, glossing over the difficulties experienced at the locker. Gaku's sedan pulled into the lot of a red brick shopping center and stopped outside of the store marked "One World Market" in red letters. That was the Japanese grocery store in Novi. Ryo was there yesterday, and today it was Shun and Gaku's turn.

Gaku said, "I'm getting this stuff for my house, but you can get what you want too."

"Okay!" Shun replied. Through the glass, and then in the store, Shun could see rows and rows of familiar products, just like the ones his mother bought in the grocery in Minasato. It had instant noodle boxes, ramune bottles, Qoo cans, bags of rice, everything! Shun could tell many of the items were imported from Japan! Back inside there was a seafood counter with tons of fresh fish, and a display had tons of packaged bento boxes. Shun peered over and even saw a sign pointing to a sushi bar. Maybe the only difference between this and the old grocery store in Japan was that things were priced in dollars instead of yen, and that there was some English signage around jostling with the Japanese. Gaku tore off half of a paper list and said, "Do me a favor and get these items, and I'll get the other half, okay?"

At the Japanese grocery Shun used his half of the list, finding the soy sauce, the _dashi_, and the imported Japanese rice. Gaku got the pre-made sushi, the mochi, and the strawberry Pocky sticks. After getting the items on Gaku's list, Shun proceeded to get the stuff he liked—the chocolate Pocky sticks and bottles of ramune in various flavors. He could have a taste of home! The two met at the checkout line and stood together, waiting for their turn. Most of the customers ahead of them were Japanese housewives like Yukie, with their dark-colored hair in buns, or straight down, or in ponytails; and dressed in soft colored blouses, skirts, and capris.

But one of the customers ahead caught his eye. A husky dog-man was giving his debit card to the cashier, who rang up his _dashi_, noodles, and soy sauce. His height, at 181 centimeters (five feet and eleven inches), was like that of an American. His hair, dyed silver, flowed out like a lion's mane and shined brightly. Shun overheard him chatting with the cashier; his voice, speaking Japanese, was husky and fairly deep, but Shun could tell that he was young. His leather jacket and blue jeans captivated Shun… Shun could tell this dog-man was Japanese like him, but he seemed to have a casual American ethos! How could he be both at once? And he was… handsome, no, he was pretty. Shun thought he was cute! Wait, is that right, a man being cute? The dog-man bid the cashier adieu and carried his groceries, now bagged. Through the glass Shun stared at the dog-man securing the grocery bags in the bungee net of a black motorcycle. He then donned on a black motorcycle helmet, with a reflective black visor, and hopped on. He backed out of the parking space and drove off.

As Shun watched out the window Gaku repeated, "Shun, we have to get going."

"Oh," Shun said when Gaku's words registered in his head.

"Do you know that guy?" Gaku asked.

"No," Shun replied. But something made him wish he did…


	3. Chapter 2: The desire

Chapter 2: The desire

Kouya Aotsuki rested peacefully in his bed, snoring away, dreaming of something. The husky dog-man rested on the side of his head and grasped the white blanket that covered him. His broad, large hands, supported by his large, muscular arms, threatened to tear the blanket apart. His steel gray cell phone, perched on the wooden dresser, suddenly rang with the standard tone after having been silent for many hours. The volume amped up and with a grunt, Kouya woke up.

"Uh, Hello," he answered in English. "Rob, what's up? … Yes, you woke me up," he answered, as if he had been drugged. "We have a gig?" As he held the cell phone with his right hand, he flushed the sleep out of his eyes with his left. "At the Wild Cherry Lounge? Isn't that the club where Eminem's friend got shot?" Another moment, and with some added peppiness he conceded with a soft chuckle, "Oh, it isn't. Okay." Then he asked, "So you want to do a jam session with June and J at J's apartment on Thursday? … Uh huh, Okay. …. Anyway, I'll talk to you later this week. Okay, bye." And with that he turned off the phone and unplugged it from the power cord that had nourished it.

With a bellowing yawn he stretched his arms, before pulling his blanket off. Kouya's dyed gray hair was all over the place and in a tangled muss, a classic case of bed-head. His black tank top shirt covered his muscular abs and pecs but exhibited their curves. Kouya rose out of bed and stood on the tile floor, barefoot. On his hips he wore black bikini briefs that seemed to barely fit his well-toned body. Kouya's legs were like his arms, well built and tough. Upon feeling his stomach grumble, he trotted up to the plain white refrigerator, which he heard humming whenever he slept at night. After opening the door he saw an expired bottle of milk that was only 1/4th full anyway, a stick of cheddar cheese, a plastic bag of baby carrots, half of a tomato, a whole orange, and a jug of water. But no eggs! He had no eggs, and he wanted a fluffy scrambled egg breakfast with Tabasco hot sauce. After shutting his refrigerator door, Kouya took a big look at his apartment. It was a mess, with papers and worn shirts and socks scattered everywhere and now he had hardly anything in his fridge! No decorations were on the walls, and he hadn't repainted it either; the white paint seemed to have become grimy long before Kouya moved there in May, when he began his first semester as a student at Wayne State University, the big state university in Detroit. Kouya had neglected to do the dishes, and they piled up next to the sink, but he still had a clean frying pan, sitting on the stove, which he could use to make eggs, so he could put off doing the dishes again.

Kouya, as he did every morning, brushed his teeth in a dingy manila tile bathroom with a mirror that he had neglected to Windex, a grimy steel sink, and a cold steel shower that often had bugs crawling in it. After he brushed his teeth, the dog-man was scanning the main room for his jeans, stepping over the dirty socks and sheets of music; he must have left his pants somewhere. "Oh, they've gotta be on the chair," he thought. They were, with a belt attached, slung over a wooden chair, the only chair in the entire apartment, that was up against a desk with his six year old gray laptop computer. Kouya's prized guitar was perched on the chair, as it needed a place to relax, a place to chill and hang out. Kouya wished he could take the guitar everywhere, but it was his baby, and he didn't want it stolen. Kouya's motorcycle, his only means of transportation, was lodged against one of the walls; he had it inside so it wouldn't get stolen. After slipping on and zipping on his jeans, Kouya powered on the computer and logged onto his Wayne State University e-mail account to see where his International Business class he signed up for was being held. He wrote down the room number on a sheet of paper that he picked up from the floor and stuffed the paper in his pocket.

Kouya then pulled on some clean, plain white ankle socks that had been sitting on the computer desk, and shoved his keys, which had also been on the desk, into his pocket. Then from the dresser he put the phone and his wallet into his jeans pockets. At the door there were some gray and white athletic sneakers, shoved into the corner haphazardly, with a bit of dirt caked on the soles. After lacing them on, he undid the two deadbolts and opened the steel door, making sure that he shut it and locked it up when he was on the other side. Kouya went through the dark, cave-like hallway from his first floor apartment unit, marked by "EXIT" signs and a carpet that stank of ammonia. Before he exited the building, Kouya sighed, thinking about the scene was outside his apartment in the Cass Avenue area of Midtown Detroit.

The day was bright and sunny, with the baby blue sky highlighting the dull colors and ugliness that was around the four story red brick brownstone on Second Avenue that housed the Aotsuki residence. That block was lined with other brownstones that had dulled paint and needed a facelift, and overgrown weeds garnished with trash and a worn liquor store perched at a corner were on the other side of Cass Avenue. The longer Kouya lived in Detroit, the more he couldn't get over how so much of the city looked like the images of war-torn Beirut or Sierra Leone that he had seen on television, and yet it was in a first world country, the richest country on the planet. Kouya knew that further up Cass many of the buildings were freshly renovated and brand-spanking new developments had opened, but redevelopment hadn't yet touched his slice. Some of the students at Wayne State told him the Cass Corridor used to be far worse than it was today, and that if one waited long enough it may become the next place to be, free of the trash and grime that had characterized it for so many years. Kouya could see that a brownstone down a side street leading into Second Avenue was being remodeled, so he knew it was true. If the neighborhood was suddenly renovated tomorrow, his rent would inevitably go up and he would probably be forced to move to an area further from campus that was in far worse shape.

A block or two north of Kouya's apartment, on Second Street, was a dull, tired building labeled "JIMMY GUY GROCERY STORE" in a cursive font. It was a 1950s-style white brick building that was at its prime when poodle skirts were in and when Dwight D. Eisenhower was President. One unique feature was the metal cage around the glass entrance. That was so if some thieves drove a car into the building, they wouldn't be able to smash the glass open and raid the store bare. A crowd was always inside this cage, even if temperatures were sub-zero, a crowd that wanted something from whoever passed into and out of the store. Every day Kouya wanted something from this store, he had to make the gauntlet to tell off people who wanted something from him.

A slick-looking young man called to Kouya asking him "Hey man, you want some weed?" He didn't dignify that request. Then some woman with wilting breasts and a tangle of matted sea green hair approached Kouya. Her neon pink tube skirt exposed a leg with throbbing veins spidering around, and she had hickey marks and needle marks all over.

"Baby, want something to perk you up?" the woman offered. Kouya, with a stone-cold face, ignored her and walked by.

"Got some change?" the bum with maybe five teeth and a scraggly white beard asked. Kouya walked past him too; he knew the guy would spend it on alcohol as soon as he got the money. Every time he went to that store, members of the crowd offered drugs and sex and asked for money. He had to close himself off, not respond to them, pretend they don't exist. There was a better store called University Foods that was clean and didn't have such a mangy crowd, but it was further away, and he'd have to drag his motorcycle out of his apartment building and spend extra time traveling to the market.

Inside the Jimmy Guy Grocery Store, it was well lit, but not spiffy and spic and span like the Krogers, Targets, and Meijers in the suburbs, and it wasn't even neat-looking like University Foods was. Dirt and mud swirled on the floors, and some of the products in the store were half-opened. After saying "hi" to the twenty-something Indian man running the cash register, Kouya made his way to the dairy aisle, walking past the displays of cheap beer and wine that were quite popular with the local vagrants and that Kouya would never be able to buy in the States, for he was only 19 years old. Yes, he was living on his own and working at a Tim Horton's at Wayne State to help pay bills, but he was not old enough to buy alcohol, for the drinking age in the State of Michigan, and the rest of the United States, was 21 years. He could go across the border to Windsor, Ontario, where the drinking age was 19, if he wanted to relax and have a beer, but he didn't have many opportunities to do that.

Kouya opened one batch of eggs. Three of them had huge cracks, so he set the carton aside. Then there was another carton. He popped it open; they looked unbroken, but after he shut the carton, he noticed the date. Something about the date was funny… it was August 1st! Those eggs were old, way past the expiration date. Kouya softly chuckled as he set the eggs aside. After some searching he finally found a batch of eggs that had an expiration date that was in September, and the random samples of eggs he plucked were pristine. He walked to the cash register, where many fellow Cass Corridor residents, ones who had no car and absolutely depended on the existence of the only grocery on the block, who were living on shoestring budgets and bought packs of ramen noodles since they were super cheap, and were threatened by the looming cloud of gentrification had gathered.

After a short wait, Kouya plonked down the cash for the eggs and hurried out the store, past the army of prostitutes and beggars and pimps and drug dealers who wanted cash, _his_ cash, and whose services Kouya had no interest in. That was the daily routine just when he wanted some friggin' eggs from the neighborhood grocery.

After having his creamy, fluffy eggs with Tabasco sauce and finally doing some dishes, Kouya pulled his motorcycle out of his apartment, donned his helmet, and drove off to park at Wayne State University, a mishmash of many structures, historic and new, sitting in the Midtown area of Detroit. His international business class was held in the Meyer and Anna Prentis Hall, a three story Minoru Yamasaki building constructed in the 1960s that was listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Like the World Trade Center in New York, the Prentis Hall was characterized by slit windows, and various straight lines that made it look like a two story slab propped up by an inner core below and a neat row of thin sticks. While the building itself was attractive, the classroom that Kouya sat in, with about 15 other students (mostly undergraduates but with some graduate students) was quite boring. It was plain white around with no windows, no way to look at the pretty day outside. Unlike American high school classrooms, usually university classrooms aren't decorated at all, so there was nothing interesting to read on the plain white walls. A Bangladeshi elephant-man in dark gray slacks and a white button down shirt addressed the audience after writing his name on the white board with a red marker.

"Good morning, class. My name is Vikram Dutta and we will go over the syllabus, but because we have a lot to cover, we will also go over the first chapter today" he said in his thick Bengali accent. Kouya had already read the first chapters, but he knew attendance was important, as the teacher would say additional things that won't be in the books, but will be on the tests. As Professor Dutta launched into the basics, Kouya worked furiously to understand his words and write every scrap of info down. It was obvious English was not Professor Dutta's native language, and he had learned English later in life, long after his voice had broken. Japanese was Kouya's native language. But he had spent his middle school years and his high school years in the United States, and his voice didn't break until he had already immersed himself in the English language, giving him a flawless American English accent. His power to understand English was superb (he did almost perfectly on the TOEFL), and so he was able to capture every word that Professor Dutta said; whenever Kouya felt Professor Dutta meant to say something else than what he said, Kouya wrote down his guesses.

Kouya labored to go to classes and write good notes partly because Kouya wanted to do well in this class; he made straight As in the Summer term, and he wished to repeat that for this semester. But it also was partly because he made money off of selling notes. Some students only sporadically attended class, and to compensate for their laziness, many students made some money selling notes to them. Kouya shook his head at the thought of students paying hard-earned money to go to college who didn't even bother going to class, but that's their loss and his gain. After one hour and thirty minutes, Professor Dutta's class was all over. Kouya packed in his International Business book into his dark blue Jansport backpack. But as he grabbed his notebook, two twenty-something girls approached him.

"Stacy and Tracy," he greeted. They were Chinese graduate students in their mid-20s taking the class; one wore glasses, had her hair cut fairly short, and had a green Winnie the Pooh shirt on, and the other had her hair in a long ponytail and had a plain pink shirt. "Stacy" and "Tracy" were not their legal names; they were their English names they chose before studying in the United States. They had been in his Intro to Communications class and Kouya knew they dutifully showed up to every class.

"Kouya, I, uh, could not get what the teacher said," Stacy said bashfully, her English heavily accented.

"Wanna copy my notes?" Kouya asked with a grin. The women got out their notebooks and filled in the gaps in places where they didn't understand the teacher. Kouya knew that having English as a second language made it hard to understand another person who had English as a second language who was also speaking English. Unlike Kouya the women learned English in a foreign country, and hadn't begun studying in the U.S. until graduate school, so they couldn't follow Professor Dutta as well as Kouya could.

The Chinese graduate students said "Thank you!" in gratitude as they closed their books. Kouya waved goodbye and headed off to get lunch somewhere.

As he walked out of Prentis Hall at 11 AM, Kouya's deep craving for a coney dog, a hot dog topped with chili and onions and a laced with a ribbon of mustard, intensified with each growl of his stomach. Despite the "Coney" name, the cuisine originated not from Coney Island in New York, but from the State of Michigan. It was Detroit's signature food, and Kouya grew a fondness for it over the summer, with the meaty flavor of the chili and the strong onions melding with the beef frank and the zesty mustard. He needed to satiate his craving for meat! Usually Kouya packed a lunch, usually a piece of fruit and a sandwich in a Ziploc bag. But he had forgotten today, and he felt like he needed to treat himself for getting good grades in his first semester.

Kouya walked down Cass Avenue and headed left on Warren Avenue to get to a greasy spoon restaurant called the Olympic Grill, perched in a manila one story strip center across from Old Main, a spiky brown brick and limestone Queen Anne structure that defined the campus. Kouya located the Olympic Grill, between the University Copy Center and the Marwil Book Store, and walked inside. The inside had bright yellow walls and pillars decorated like a racing flag, and to Kouya it was a stop-and-go place for a quick, greasy bite to eat. Kouya waited for a few minutes in the line of hungry college students, ordered his Coney dog and looked around to see if any of his friends were there.

"Dante!" Kouya greeted as he saw his friend sitting at a table in the center of the restaurant. Dante Thompson was black guy who had been in Kouya's Intro to Communications class. Dante loved wearing bright, colorful oversized T-shirts, and his favorite was the red T-shirt with Al Pacino in his Scarface pose in black, which he was wearing at the moment. His gray cargo knee-length shorts and his backwards baseball cap complemented the oversized shirt.

"What's up?" he asked as Kouya sat across from him.

"Not much. Where's your girlfriend Sarah?" Kouya asked. Sarah Carter usually sat with Dante wherever he went.

"She's being 'Wayned'. She found that she didn't need to take a philosophy course even though the counselor told her to," he sighed. The administrative staff was known for being unhelpful and incompetent, and thus students at the school said they were "Wayned" whenever the staff made a goof.

"That's too bad. I remember when it said online that I had library fees, even though I always turned in my books on time. Making the billing office reverse those charges was like pulling teeth!" Kouya laughed.

"Yeah, it's getting depressing. Let's change the topic, man. So did you see the latest video on World Star Hip Hop?" Dante asked.

"No," Kouya answered.

"It's some bus driver smacking the shit out of a woman. She cussed him out and shoved him while he was drivin' it, so he just WHAM! gave her an uppercut." The website World Star Hip Hop was known for those kinds of videos, where some idiots started fights with other idiots that were videotaped by more idiots.

"That's so lame," Kouya laughed. The waitress delivered Kouya's coney to him, and he began biting down on it. Yum !

"I know. It's even more _ratchet_ than that video where that girl beat the chick on the porch." The word ratchet means something that had zero class and was very embarrassing.

"So are we going to play Xbox on Friday?" Kouya asked.

"Sorry man, I'm going to the movies with her on Friday night."

"Alright. What about Saturday morning?"

"I have to go to my fraternity meeting on Saturday," Dante answered.

"Well, I guess I'll see if there's time to hang out some other time," Kouya sighed. Ever since Dante began dating Sarah, whatever time Kouya had to extensively hang out with, or hang out at all with, Dante had whittled down to nothing.

"Anyway, I've got a class I gotta go. Seeya soon, man!" Dante said as he got up, waved to Kouya, and left. Kouya had eaten three fourths of the Coney dog, but he didn't feel hungry for the fourth that was left. Whatever friendships Kouya had at Wayne State, they were stop and go just like the restaurant. Two of Kouya's bandmates were also Wayne State students, but he didn't see them often and they had wildly different schedules and other commitments. He only saw them on weekends, the sporadic weekdays when they sometimes held jam sessions, and a few occasions where they bumped into each other on campus. Everyone else was in their boat, for Wayne State was a commuter school, where most students live off campus and socialize off campus. Kouya tried joining some clubs in the Summer term, but they weren't very active, and Dante told him they were moribund in the fall and spring too.

In the afternoon Kouya took a public speaking course in Manoogian Hall. After that, in a bathroom stall, Kouya donned a khaki shirt, dark brown slacks, and a khaki visor cap. He then traveled to the Tim Hortons at the Union Midtown, a private student housing complex just near campus. Tim Hortons was a Canadian chain famous for its coffee and baked goods, and while most of its stores were in Canada, it had a few in the United States, some of which were in Michigan.

His shift, which lasted for three hours, started off with the customers, mostly college students, going "May I have a hazelnut Iced Capp?" (the term for an iced cappucino) or "Is it alright if I have a chocolate chip cookie?" So far so good.

A frat boy type with a baseball cap and a striped blue and white polo asked "Man, don't you do free refills?"

"Sir, we don't do free refills, I'm sorry," Kouya responded.

"You guys suck!" the frat boy responded before he left. Kouya sighed as he waited for the next customer.

A few customers later, a stocky middle-aged man in a green oxford shirt and khakis was talking on his phone while in position to order.

Kouya said, "Sir, please turn off your phone so you can order."

"Hey, I'm doing something fucking important, will you hold on a minute?" the man spat, his face looking scarier and scarier each moment.

Kouya forced himself to say, "Sir, I am deeply sorry but there are other customers waiting in line who need to order. Please turn off your phone so I can get your order" with as much fake politeness as he could muster. The man grunted as he shut off his phone.

Kouya sighed and grumbled underneath but was able to keep it internalized until his shift was over. In a bathroom in a WSU classroom building, with nobody else inside, Kouya let it out in private, railing against that arrogant, self-important jerk. It was a stressful, low wage job that tested his patience, and he worked five days per week, eating up large chunks of his time. But it covered some of his living expenses and gave him a bit of spending money.

After the job was over, Kouya would divide his time between shopping and studying.

"You know, I wouldn't mind having _kitsune udon_ for dinner," he thought after he changed out of his work uniform into his signature jeans and tank top shirt. That meant he was going to shop, but more specifically making a trek all the way up the John C. Lodge Freeway, up to Novi, that bustling suburb in Oakland County with rich White people and Japanese business executives with 2.4 kids and a garage and a dog. Nowhere in Detroit had the Japanese ingredients used to make the dish. He needed to go to the 'burbs to purchase that stuff. Then again, almost all of the major chain stores were in the 'burbs too. A Whole Foods is opening up in Midtown, but that's way beyond Kouya's budget. To go to Target, Barnes and Noble, or Wal-Mart, he would have to go to the burbs. Meijer was supposed to open a big store in Detroit, but that was on 8 Mile next to the State Fairgrounds and across from Ferndale, and that was far from where Kouya lived anyway. Detroit did have many mom and pop stores, but sometimes he needed to get something from a chain store, or in this case, something from a unique specialty store that didn't exist in Detroit.

The ride to Novi was long, involving ribbons of freeways and cranky motorists. As a motorcyclist Kouya took extra precautions, making sure other people saw him, always fearing that he could run into a car and get knocked off. But it was way cheaper to operate a motorcycle, which was more inexpensive to purchase, took less gas, and was less costly to insure, so Kouya bought a motorbike in America with the money he had saved after working in Japan for a year. He kept his motorcycle jacket in his backpack, but put it on whenever he took a ride, so that he would be protected in case he did get into an accident. Kouya's jeans were special jeans geared towards people who rode motorcycles and had extra padding in the knees and kevlar. And he always, always made sure he wore his helmet.

At the store he not only got what he needed to make the udon, but also the various snacks and drinks that were unique to Japan that he wanted to have on a whim. He bought whatever he needed _and_ whatever he could fit into his little bungee net. Getting these special Japanese goods stretched his budget, and so due to the distance and the cost of gas he only went maybe once every week or week and a half. Kouya envied the housewives who had husbands and families to return to and enough money to live comfortably in their newfangled McMansions. There was an elderly man he saw in there with a son who was obviously a bigwig with Toyota or Nissan or some other car company, and some short teenage wolf-boy with someone who looked like maybe an older brother or something. All of them seemed to have something Kouya didn't, but he didn't vent his frustrations in public. He just bought his stuff and left. As he got on his motorcycle, he thought about maybe taking a dip in the lake in Novi on the last weekend it was open; it had a natural beauty that was missing from the industrially polluted areas scattered all across Detroit.

After getting back to his apartment in the Cass Corridor, and he preferred to to get back before dark to avoid the possibility of crime, Kouya checked his e-mail at his laptop computer, hoping to see if this guy named David was interested in meeting him. The dog-man didn't widely publicize this among his classmates and peers, but his fellow band members and those who spoke to him at length knew that Kouya was gay. At a gay bar north of campus, Kouya had gotten the phone number and email of a guy named David, somebody who Kouya thought had an interest in him, and started a correspondence, hoping maybe to get to know him better. But David always said he was too busy over the phone and the e-mail. As Kouya looked at the list, he saw an e-mail from David asking "Why don't we meet up?" Kouya smiled softly, until he read the body, which stated that David had started going out with this guy named Brad, and that maybe they could hang out and talk about things. Kouya sighed as he shut his laptop; the whole exercise was futile. He'd have to try again in the dating game, hoping to find a hook-up that would last more than a week.

After an evening shower, he put on a clean tank top and pair of underwear and curled into his bed, with the lights out. Kouya had lived alone since a roommate who had stayed in his apartment left, partly because his girlfriend invited him to her place in Allen Park, but also because the former roommate was tired of the Skid Row trash, and tired of being in the city, with its ineffective politicians and lack of services and hopelessness, and he couldn't afford living in the good parts of the Cass Corridor, in Downtown, or immediately around campus. As Kouya sank into his bed, his mind told him something was missing. Kouya realized he had nobody to bare his whole soul, for he didn't see his bandmates often enough (and the two who were male were straight anyway) and didn't really talk to anyone else at in depth. He hadn't found a guy that could fill the void in his life. He had a hunger to share something with someone every day, his feelings, his frustrations, and his convictions. Kouya Aotsuki wanted a boyfriend to share his bed, to share himself with him.


	4. Chapter 3: The test

After the grocery store stop, Shun brought up gym class, so he and Gaku went out to Target to buy stuff for gym class. Gaku bought a pair of white athletic shoes with blue stripes and a metal combination lock. Then Shun complained that he was feeling tired due to the jet lag, so Gaku bought a bottle of Coca-Cola, and Shun was able to stay up longer. During the drive home, Shun couldn't stop thinking about the dog-man with the silver hair, the leather jacket, the blue jeans, and the motorcycle helmet. "Who was he? What does he do as a living?" Shun thought. He looked so… cool, so calm, so confident. Gaku's car stopped outside of the house on Water Front Circle.

Gaku said, "Shun, I'm going to pick up some stuff at Ikea, but I think you should stay home with your dad, now that he's home from work."

"Why?" Shun asked.

"Because he isn't going to be around that much."

"Really?"

"He's a VP in the company now. He's going to be a very busy man."

"Funyuu! So what am I going to do?" While many Japanese fathers have long work days and had little time to see their kids, Ryo Kodori took every effort to be involved in the life of his only child. Now he can't even do that.

"You could hang out with me after work, or see your new friends after school. You could go with me into the city on Saturdays too."

"You mean that Japan-Michigan meeting you talked about in that e-mail…?"

"The education committee of the Japan-Detroit Association. I'm a part of it, and we meet in the afternoon at the Detroit Public Library at 3:45. Your Japanese school program's only from 9 to 3 so I can take you into the city in the afternoon. You can read some books while, or play your 3DS for awhile, and then we can do something fun!" Shun's smile widened at the thought of doing something in the city. He remembered that there were lots of fun things to do in Tokyo, and he loved going to Akihabara and the various arcades. And maybe Gaku could take him to a restaurant with interesting food… there were tacos, like what Melinda had shared with him, but there might be other things too! Shun's father, Ryo, sat on the floor, watching the CBS Detroit channel on a silver flat screen television that he had purchased just after his first day of work.

Ryo said, "Hey Shun!"

"Hi Dad!"

"Why don't you watch the news with me?"

"Okay!" Shun said as he sat on the soft brown leather couch. It was so squishy that he could probably sink into it like quicksand. Then he saw the television. It was the credits to some program Shun hadn't heard of, and the text went away rapid fire. Then the jingle of the television news program came on, and the logo of the CBS Detroit News flashed on the screen. This was Shun's first American news program that he saw in person. Two news announcers, one Asian and one black, sat at a sleek off-white desk with a pop-action style blue background with the CBS logo.

The female news announcer delivered in her crisp voice, "Good evening. I'm Corinna Zhou." Her jaw was sleek and well defined, and her jet black hair was coiffed in a bun. Her makeup, dark red lipstick, black and gray pinstripe suit, and white blouse emphasized her professionalism.

"And I'm Marcus Gray," the male news announcer said in his firm tone. With his broad shoulders, his black suit, white oxford shirt, and striped red and black tie, Gray also showed off his authority in informing the city.

Zhou continued, "The top story tonight is the robbery of several students at an elementary school in the eastside of Detroit…"

Against the English of the news program, Ryo cried a piercing "WHAT?" in Japanese. Shun was speechless; now going into the city didn't sound so appealing.

"Joining us this evening is Angela Johnson, who is reporting live. Angela?" The scene shifted to a reporter with strawberry blonde hair and a black suit, holding a microphone. She stood outside of a one-story brick school with a few parents milling around.

"Good evening. This afternoon, a pair of teenagers entered the school and robbed two students at gunpoint. One of the students reported losing 45 dollars in cash, and the other, 8 dollars in cash."

"Christ!" Ryo cried, "…and 45 dollars? Why would a child carry that much money?"

As CCTV footage played on the screen, Angela Johnson said, "According to surveillance video the two teenagers had approached the students and flashed a gun, and the students gave them cash from their pockets, before departing."

"Is America really this violent?" Shun incredulously asked.

"I have friends who have lived in Tennessee, New York, and Los Angeles," Ryo said as the program continued, "and they had never spoke of anything like this." He watched more of the news. A prostitute was found dead in the northwest side of the city, with multiple gunshots to the temple and the stomach. A 16-year old girl in the east side had been shot dead once in the heart, and the motive apparently was that her friend had robbed some drug dealers and they fired towards the friend but hit the girl instead. So much violence, and all of it is happening in the city! At that point Ryo said, "Uh, Shun, do you want to watch something else?" Shun couldn't say anything; he was speechless. Of course Japan had crime, but nothing at this scale! At that point then the weather person came on, and Ryo said, "Never mind." The news afterwards was fairly bland, prompting Shun to go to his room to play his Nintendo 3DS. After the news was over, Ryo continued to watch TV. The doorbell rang, promoting Ryo to go to the front doorstep and open the door. It was Gaku Kodori, holding a large box labeled in the blue and yellow IKEA logo.

"I got more stuff in the car," Gaku said. Gaku had driven to the IKEA in Canton, a suburb of Detroit, and bought boxes full of furnishings for Ryo's new residence and some Swedish meatballs meals to provide dinner for the members of the Kodori clan living in Michigan. He then returned to Novi, stopping by Ryo's house to drop off the stuff. Referring to the meatballs, Gaku said, "I have dinner for you too."

"Thank you, Gaku," Ryo said.

"Uncle Ryo," Gaku said, "you won't be disappointed. IKEA has great furniture."

"Well, I watched the evening news… I was quited disheartened by it."

"The news?"

"Some teenagers robbed a school! And a boy had forty-five dollars on him! And then the news starts talking about people being killed. Some girl's friend stole from drug dealers and she got shot because of it!"

"Local news in America always starts with the bad stuff," Gaku sighed.

"Looks like it, but it is really disturbing how much violence happens in the city," Ryo replied.

"And there's not a peep about the outer suburbs like Novi," Gaku added, "I mean the suburbs aren't a crime free wonderland, but it's like night and day between Novi and Detroit. I go to the library and some places in Downtown, and I know those areas are okay, but most of the city is a total mess." Ryo called Shun to come down for dinner, and he did. The Swedish meatballs had a savory taste thanks to the gravy, the mashed potatoes were pure comfort food, and the ligonberry sauce that came with the meatballs had a tart flavor. But as he ate his meal, his thoughts drifted from the silky flavor of the potatoes to the city of Detroit. His friend Melinda bought those tacos in Detroit, and Japan had nothing like it! Sure, the meatballs were nice, but the tacos really blew his mind and piqued his interest in the city. But then he heard the awful stuff on the news, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. After the three finished their meals, his father brought out his silver laptop, opened it, and tapped the keys, signing onto Skype.

"Stand in front of the camera!" Ryo said. Shun sat in the seat as Ryo and Gaku stood above him.

"Hi!" Yukie said. Her soft, cheery voice sounded a bit choppy, but she was sitting in front of that computer Ryo had used to check the flight status on. It was 8 PM in Novi, but it was 9 AM in Minasato.

"How are you doing?"

"Good, good," Ryo started.

"And Shun! My America boy! How are things going?"

"Pretty good, I made some American friends!"

"American friends!" she gushed.

"Yep!" Shun answered. Shun told her about Melinda and Tim, and how she let him try some tacos and how Tim complimented him on his video games.

"Have you introduced nattō to them?" Yukie asked with a smirk, referring to the Japanese fermented bean curd.

"Mom! They wouldn't like the taste!" Shun cried.

"You never know, some people are adventurous," Ryo said.

But everyone held back the horrors that they saw on the television. They didn't have the heart to tell Yukie of the terrible things they learned about on the television. Let's keep things optimistic, shall we? Shun wished he could reach into the monitor and feel his mother's warmth. But he was across the ocean, and this would have to do.

Yukie announced, "Well, Grandpa's sleeping," referring to Iwao, "but I have to go to the store. I'll see you later! Bye, Ryo! Bye Gaku! Shun, have fun, sweetie pie!" She wished she could rustle Shun's hair and twirl around the _ahoge_, the lone long strand protruding like she did before her precious boy went to bed.

Shun took a bath after dinner. He then went to sleep at 8:30 PM as the desire to sleep descended upon him, but this meant he was on his way to conquering his jet lag. He woke up at 5:45 AM, and Shun's dad left a note saying Gaku was going to pick him up at 7:30 so they could get to school early to get his gym clothes. Shun made himself another bland American ramen as breakfast. On Shun's second day of school, in addition to his backpack he came with a plastic Target shopping bag filled with his gym class goodies. Gaku and Shun went to the gym to buy his gym shirt and gym shorts. The female gym coach, a portly redhead also dressed in the gym uniform but also wearing a green baseball cap, held up the sizes of the gym shorts to Shun's small body. Each time, she became exasperated, hoping that she would find a correct size to fit the slim wolf-boy.

"This is the smallest we have," the coach muttered as she held up the tiniest pair of gym shorts she could find.

"It fits perfectly!" Shun cried. Gaku paid the coach for the gym shorts and the corresponding T-shirt, and they were added to Shun's plastic bag.

Shun then proceeded to homeroom and then to his history class; during his very first working class Mr. Simmons began discussing the settlement of the Indians in North America. Even some of the American students were not terribly familiar with this part, but as Mr. Simmons went through his Powerpoint, displayed on the whiteboard, Shun wrote down every detail in his neatly-filed, organized baby blue binder. Shun knew enough English to keep up with Mr. Simmons's pace, but it took some time for him to convert Mr. Simmons's English into Shun's Japanese. Melinda sat next to him and briefly looked at his notes. Instead of English, Shun wrote it in swirls of katakana, hiragana, and kanji, the Chinese characters used in Japanese. The specific English terms floated in a sea of Japanese.

Melinda, who sat next to Shun, took a peek and whispered, "Your notes are in Japanese.."

"Oh," Shun whispered, "should they be in English?" It took longer for Shun to write in English than in Japanese, but did Melinda know something he didn't…?

"Write 'em however you want," she replied softly. Shun turned back and continued writing his notes in Japanese. Shun knew she was originally a Detroiter, and he wanted to ask her about the horrible stuff he saw on the news yesterday evening, but he knew he couldn't do that now.

After the bell rang, it was time for gym class. Shun walked straight into the gymnasium, remembering that he needed to go into the locker room and change out first, before appearing on the gym floor to report to class. Passing through the cinderblock gym, he encountered an entranceway labeled "Boys' locker room." The light grew dimmer and dimmer and a musty smell hit Shun's nose. Shun's sandals stepped on a damp artifical-looking blue carpet. Then he saw rows of green lockers, with dim lights illuminating the putrid room. Shun noticed that the toilets, located next to the walkway, didn't have fully closeable stalls, only dividers. He traveled further and gazed upon the shower room, with its green tile and white walls. It just consisted of several shower spouts like tall flowers; no curtains were anywhere. And it looked dry, as it it was never used. There were a few boys inside the locker room, but then more and more trickled in from math classes, English classes, and other classes.

Shun took a slip of paper from his pocket which had the locker number he received yesterday. The indicated locker was in the second row. He walked up and popped it open. It made a little creak as he swung it open further. Then he unpacked the bag, with the shoes, some plain white socks he got back in Japan, the green gym shorts, and the white T-shirt which read "LAKESIDE P.E." on the front. To the upper left of the "LAKESIDE P.E." was a place for the name; Gaku had taken a Sharpie and written "SHUN KODORI" in English in the place. The gym shorts had "LAKESIDE P.E." in a smaller font, and Gaku had also written Shun's name there. Then Shun pulled out the lock-he memorized the combination-and then undid it. Then Shun pulled off his sandals. This time the floor felt dry, so he was relieved that his feet didn't get wet. Then he put his backpack inside the locker. Following that he removed his hoodie sweater and his white T-shirt. They disappeared into the gym locker.

Shun froze briefly; in Japan he didn't exactly like changing for gym class. He knew he had to endure it, but at his old school, when changing in front of others he felt nervous and vulnerable, fearing that somebody would prank him or humiliate him somehow. And sometimes he felt funny when seeing a tall, muscular classmate change clothes. It made Shun feel hot and stiff and he didn't understand why he felt that way. It seemed shameful and he chose to look away and not ask his father about why that happened. And now there were tons of huge American students around him. Many of them were self-conscious like him, but they just wore boxer shorts over their real underwear, or had their gym clothes under their street clothes. But for Shun there was no way out. In any case he didn't like wearing boxers.

So with some reluctance Shun undid his belt and placed his khaki shorts inside the locker. He promptly shut it and locked the locker door shut. Then, as if the timer on a video game was down into its last seconds, he quickly pounced upon his gym shorts and slipped them on over his underpants. Phew! Then he slipped on his T-shirt and pulled on his socks. After tying the laces of his shoes he walked out of the locker room with the other boys, ready to start his class.

Shun sat in a manner that was called "Indian-style" by Americans of an older generation, but now called "criss-cross" by Shun's classmates and by the administration at Lakeside High. Rows of other boys sat in front of the coach, who was muscular and with a tan complexion, but average-sized for an American. He wore a plain white T-shirt and green sweatpants. The big, bushy eyebrows, the well-slicked wavy black hair, and the well-trimmed mustache, all ink black, made him look like Mario's triplet brother! The girls were on the other side of the gym, and they sat facing the fat female coach. Shun remembered from last class that the male coach's name was John Nasser.

First the class had to do twenty pushups. Most of the boys performed their pushups maybe with some difficulty, but it was no biggie. But Shun was barely able to lift himself. By the time he finished, the coach had already switched to jumping jacks. Each of the exercises, including the lunges and the twists, were hard to keep up with. After that was done, Coach Nasser said, "Today we are going to play one court basketball." Shun remembered being teased at his old school for playing sports poorly, let alone one that required being tall. Basketball and Shun Kodori… that mixes as well as oil and water. "It's boys versus girls. There are six goalposts, so I'll go by each one of you and go 'one,' 'two', 'three' up to six, until the whole row is gone, okay?" Then he went "'one,' 'two,' three,' four,' 'five,' 'six'." Shun got a three so he went to the basketball goalpost labeled "three." There were about 30 boys and 30 girls, so that means each goalpost had five boys and five girls. Unlike in Japan, the girls didn't wear _buruma_; they wore gym shorts just like the boys do.

At goalpost three, five girls and four other boys converged. Shun was shorter than even the girls. Only one boy didn't tower over Shun; He was Asian, maybe five inches taller than Shun. His hair was in a bowl shape, and he was slightly chubby. The other boys were all non-Asians and were at minimum fairly tall.

Shun assumed the Asian boy was Japanese and asked out of curiosity, "Are you new here or did you arrive the day before yesterday?" in his native tongue. For a moment Shun expected an answer.

"Dude, I'm Chinese," the boy finally responded in English. A quick look at the nametag on his shirt, "Jacob Wang," confirmed that he was a Chinese American.

"Ack!" Shun cried upon the realization. His expression looked so comical that some of the boys giggled. "Hanyaa! I'm sorry!"

"Whatever, there are so many Japanese at this school that people mistake me for one," Jacob said.

One of the girls said "Same here. I'm Korean." The name on her shirt tag read "Mina Kim." She was maybe two inches taller than Shun. She had neatly cut black hair, which went down midway between her earlobe and her shoulder, and parted to expose her forehead.

"Shouldn't we get on with the game?" one girl asked. She was White, 5'6 and had her dirty blonde hair in a straight up ponytail, and she had a few freckles. The name on her tag read "Chelsea Barron."

Then a lanky, bony white kid jokingly suggested, "I don't know, I kind of liked hearing you guys talking about ethnic confusion, why don't we do that the whole period?" His nametag read "Phil Schumann." His light brown hair was quite bushy, and while he was 5'8 he was almost as skinny as Shun was. He had a bit of acne. Shun had watched _Scooby Doo_ in Japanese and he could swear that Phil looked like Shaggy, except without a goatee. Did Phil have the munchies too? Did he have a Great Dane?

"Whatever," Mina sighed, "let's play." The stocky girl dribbled the basketball and passed it to a redhead bespectacled girl. They traveled with quick speed, but one of the boys, a tall black kid, stole the ball and dribbled it around. Shun tried to follow the ball, but could only do so barely and clumsily. The basketball traveled so quickly. The boys, his teammates, intimidated him just by running around… especially the two huge boys traveling around. Even the girls traveled quickly and stole the ball violently. The fear of being hit by the ball or by someone else and losing a tooth, bruising his face, or knocking out an eye overpowered him. Chelsea stole the ball, but then the ball was stolen by Jacob, who passed it towards Shun. But Shun ducked and the ball sailed over him. It went out of bounds.

"Quit being afraid of the ball," Jacob ordered as Shun went to collect the ball.

Shun cried, "Funyuu! It's hard.. I feel like it's going to hurt me!" as he threw it back. Mina caught it.

Jacob responded "Shun, stop being afraid and catch the ball. At this rate the girls will beat us," as he stole it from Mina. Shun decided to try his best and Jacob handed him the ball. Shun held his hands out but the ball fell off. Shun barely dribbled the ball and almost lost it once or twice. His little hands were barely able to grip it. The girls decided to go easy and let him take a shot. Shun grabbed the ball and pushed it up, but it didn't even get close to the goal. It just bounced off the cinderblock, and the other students sighed. Shun wasn't able to get the ball for the rest of the game. The boys won, but barely.

Back in the locker room, Shun was to change back into his clothes. Nobody took a shower. Shun undressed his gym outfit and put back in the locker. As he pulled his street clothes, sandals, and backpack from his locker, he peered over down the row and saw the large black guy he had played basketball with just chatting with one of his friends, who happened to be a large American horse-man… a large, muscular horse-man wearing only gray boxer briefs. For just one moment Shun stared at the horseman. His head began to feel warm. His cheeks began to redden, and he began looking like he had been boiled in something. He turned away, looked down at himself, and realized that looking at the horse-man did something to him. He quickly dressed in his street clothes, got his backpack, and walked out of the locker room.

As Shun walked out, from the distance Jacob, now in a black T-shirt and blue jean shorts, "Hey, I'll see you later." Shun was too caught up in being shell shocked on what had happened to even process Jacob's words, let alone reply to him. Jacob assumed Shun just didn't hear him.

At lunchtime, Shun brought a bento box that Gaku had purchased from One World Market the previous day. It had chicken katsudon, assorted tempura, and "hinomaru" rice in the shape of a Japanese flag, where a pickled plum was put in the middle to simulate the red _hinomaru_ circle, with the rice emulating the white. Tim, to Shun's left, had his computer out, and had been going on Reddit, looking up the Detroit subreddit. His peanut butter sandwich was half-eaten and untouched. Melinda, across from Shun, was eating a pita bread stuffed with vegetables. A piece of paper with a pencil sketch stood in front of her. A mechanical pencil sat between Melinda's left elbow and the paper.

"I watched the evening news last night," Shun announced after taking a bite.

"Alright," Tim started. He had stopped typing.

"It is so bad." Melinda immediately stopped eating. Shun wasn't eating either.

"You mean the start of the news?" Melinda asked.

"There are so many violent things that happen," Shun answered, "Hanyaa! It's horrible."

"Yep," Melinda exclaimed, "all in the city too."

"Some shit in Detroit always happens and gets on the news. Guy gets his head blown off in a driveby. A funeral is attacked by guys with huge guns and the guys in the funeral shoot back. My dad yawns when that part of the news comes on." Tim said.

"We do not even have guns in Japan," Shun remarked, "if someone does something bad it is a stabbing and that almost never happens."

"Boy, we have plenty of guns here," Tim said.

"I heard in many cities in America violence happens, but my cousin said it is very bad in Detroit," Shun stated.

"He's right," Melinda said rapid-fire, as if it was all one word.

"My parents were born in Detroit. My dad's family had to move out when his house kept getting robbed," Tim said, "his old house doesn't even exist now, it burned down. My mom's family moved when riots happened and the value of their house began to go down. It's now in shambles."

"Your father's house burned?" Shun asked. Tim nodded his head.

Melinda explained, "Well, my old area, Mexicantown, is better than a lot of Detroit. My old house is still standing and my cousins live there. But there were gangs at the public schools, and my parents worked hard to put me through Catholic school to avoid them. Plus the public schools in my area sucked."

"Gangs?" Shun asked.

"In many big cities there are groups of teenagers and twenty year olds that come together and sell drugs. They shoot each other over the drugs and kill each other and kill innocent people too." Melinda said.

"In Japan the teenagers get on bikes…motorbikes, and make noise in the neighborhoods. It is very annoying." Shun sighed.

"I wish the gangs were like that here," Melinda sighed.

"And you say the schools in Detroit are bad?" Shun asked.

"My boyfriend went to my old Catholic middle school for awhile, but he did something stupid and got expelled, so he's at the public high school in Mexicantown. He doesn't have to study much at all, and he says his classes are bullshit. Half of the people don't even study and there are always disruptions in class and so much gang violence." Melinda said.

"So there are so many bad things that are in Detroit, but there are also good things…" Shun started. Tim shot him a skeptical look. Shun continued, "the tacos."

"Oh…" Melinda exclaimed.

"Can't you get tacos anywhere?" Tim asked.

"Tim, the tacos you get in Novi are nothing like the ones you get in Mexicantown. They're different. Try 'em sometime, OK?" Melinda said, "But in a way Shun's right, there are special things in my old 'hood and people get attached to where they're from. But my Dad considered the benefits and the drawbacks, and here I am. It's kinda sad."

"Shouldn't we talk about something happier?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, that's a good idea!" Melinda grinned.

"Like the history quiz Thursday of the week after next?" Tim asked. Melinda burst out into laughter.

"Melinda's in my history class," Shun said.

"So am I!" Tim announced, "I had a schedule change and it's coming to effect tomorrow. Some elective looked better so I switched."

"Are you keeping up fine with the class?" Melinda asked.

"I think so," Shun answered.

"Decide soon, because if you think it's too much, you could try to switch to another class. I know your parents want you to succeed, but I don't think you should go too far over your head," Melinda said as she got the pencil out and began working on the sketch again.

"It does not seem to be bad now, so I think I will stay!" Shun exclaimed.

"Shun, where did you learn English?" Tim asked.

"There is an English language school in Yokohama and my Dad enrolled me there when I started junior high. He believed that I needed to learn the language, and I like learning it, so I went every Saturday after cram school. Then he said I could come to America to learn more English, so I came here," Shun said.

"Cool!" Tim exclaimed. "Some of the Japanese coming in don't seem to have a good grasp in English at all, so your Dad did something right." Shun suddenly noticed Melinda's tongue protruding, and then saw her trace some shapes.

"Do you like to draw?" Shun asked.

"Yeah, a bit," she said.

"What are you drawing?" Shun asked.

"I'm sketching the school mascot. It looks kinda cool." Somewhere on the cafeteria wall was the symbol of the Lakeside High Tigers, with a cartoon tiger's face surrounded by a thick green circle. Shun walked around to Melinda's side and saw the sketch.

"Hafu! It looks nice!"

"Lemme see," Tim said as he hurried over. "That's pretty awesome!" Tim's computer was in front of them, so nobody would dare snatch it.

"I liked to draw when I was younger. I want to become an artist," she said as she filled in the outlines she traced. "I heard art school costs a lot of money, but I'll see if there are scholarships." She finished the sketch, and it emulated the mascot but looked perhaps fiercer. Tim looked at it and gave a thumbs up.

"Melinda, I really am glad you shared food with me yesterday, so please try some of my bento box," Shun asked.

"Can I too?" Tim asked.

"Yes," Shun answered. Shun smiled as his friends took plastic forks that were in their homemade lunch kits and tried the remaining tempura, katsudon, and hinomaru rice, using the forks to move food onto their brown bags from the bento box, which was in the middle of the table. They went "mmmmm," a sound Americans make when they like the food.


	5. Chapter 3: The test, part 2

That afternoon Shun's classes went well, and at the end of the day he went to the pick-up area. Gaku's car pulled up. As Shun entered Gaku's car, Jacob, Mina, Chelsea, and Phil were sitting on a wooden bench, waiting for their rides outside. They were now in their street clothing.

"That guy's kinda creepy-looking," Chelsea remarked as her face looked like she smelled something awful. Chelsea had a mid-length white denim skirt, a pink T-shirt, and a white denim jacket, making her look like a stick of bubblegum.

"He looks like a molester," Jacob quipped, sounding unfazed. Jacob had a black T-shirt with the word "MACROSS" and blue jeans. The students noticed that the pickup line was packed to the point where Gaku's car couldn't leave the pickup area yet.

"You mean the guy in the car Shun's gotten into?" Mina asked. Mina had short blue jean shorts, which revealed her chubby legs, and a striped blue and white T-shirt.

"Yeah," Jacob replied.

"I remember seeing him get into the same car yesterday, and the same guy too, so he's gotta be okay," Mina shrugged.

"Or maybe he's offering 25% more candy!" said Phil, wearing a gray T-shirt with a trollface logo, which seemed to laugh at whoever dared take a look at it, and khaki cargo pants. A tall boy with a shaved head and a fairly muscular frame appeared.

"Ken, what's up?" Jacob asked.

"Not much," Ken replied. He wore a Lakeside high letterjacket, a knit White polo shirt with the Lakeside logo in the upper-right corner, and blue jeans. He carried a green duffel back with the words "KEN MUTOH" stitched in white.

"Practice went well?" Jacob asked.

"Yeah. Basketball tryouts are next week, but I'm sure I'll make it, like I did last year," Ken answered, "Who were you talking about?"

"We were just talking about the guy picking up somebody we met." Gaku's car just drove away as traffic eased, but Ken got a glimpse.

"Oh that's Gaku Kodori. My uncle works in the same office as that guy. He told me that Gaku's cousin just came to the U.S. and is going to school here."

"Yep," Jacob said, "I have gym class with that kid. He sucks at basketball." After a beat, he chuckled, "You don't have to worry about new competition!"

"Jacob, be nice! Not everyone can be good at everything!" Mina pleaded.

While the students continued their banter on the bench, in the sedan Gaku asked Shun if he needed a cell phone SIM card, so his phone would work in the U.S. Shun recalled that his phone didn't work, so Gaku told him that yes, he needed the card. He also told him that he wouldn't be able to use Japanese in his texts with the U.S. cell provider he used. Gaku opted to instead get Shun a brand new phone. Shun grinned as he held his new phone, a Nokia device colored light blue. Gaku was driving him to his home.

He asked, "Gaku-san, I know your townhouse is just down the street. Know anywhere fun I could walk to after school?"

"Nowhere," he said.

"Really?"

"Shun, to get around this place you need a car. You can ask me when I'm not at work, and I can take you. But there's no way to get around without one."

"Hanyaa! In Japan I could walk everywhere!"

"Not here," Gaku sighed, "and did you get the bus schedule?"

"Yes," Shun said, "it comes at 7:45."

"Good. You can take the bus in the morning, but I'll pick you up in the afternoon."

That evening, after Shun's bath, he retired to bed. Now his alarm clock was placed on a white circular table, and a box of tissues was there in case Shun had a cold. A white circular trash can was also next to the bed. But as the wolf-boy shut his eyes, thoughts of the horse-man in the locker room entered his mind. That night he warmed himself thinking about that, and when it was over, the trash can had a few tissues in it. Afterwards Shun reflected on his sexuality as he sank into his sheets. Back in Japan Shun's parents told him to not look up pornography, for it was bad for him. He complied with the order, but after he thought about the horse-man, he wondered if maybe he should. Maybe if he saw images of girls, he would lust after them moreso than he did with that horseman. But he didn't feel driven to seek out images of women. Maybe if he saw the images he would… No, he didn't want his father to get mad at him, so he chose not to do so. That morning Shun emptied his trash and the other trash cans in the house and put the plastic bag into the dumpster, so that his father wouldn't see what he did.

By Friday, thanks to Gaku's errands, the decorations in the Kodori house had been mostly set up. The house looked less like an empty shell and more like a home. The chic Swedish décor, the vases, the pottery, and the lamps gave the house a stylish twist. Unlike the old house, there was no tatami room, no altar. It was an American house, but with Japanese people living in it. Ryo had provided some converters for Shun's consoles, so they'd work with the American televisions. On Saturday Shun went to his Japanese school program, held in the building at Lake View Elementary School from 9 to 3. After class ended, Shun told his father that the teacher, Kyoko-sensei, was nice and that her lessons were what he expected for a first year high school Japanese course. Gaku had offered for Shun to come with him after he was done Japanese school, but on his first weekend in America, Shun's father offered to take him on a simple drive around town to show him the local landmarks, so Shun opted for that instead. He saw the city hall, a two story glass and brick building which was just near Lakeside High; the library, a modern, chic brick facility that had a similar style to city hall and was also next to Lakeside High; and the Twelve Oaks Mall, a massive shopping mall that could be anywhere in America.

In the mall's parking lot, Ryo asked, "Wanna see the lake?"

"Daddy, I'd like to!" Shun eagerly replied. Ryo's Maxima drove north on Novi Road and continued onto Old Novi Road. The vehicle took a left on West Thirteen Mile Road, and…

"This is Walled Lake," Ryo announced. A gleaming Michigan lake appeared in view, stretching into the horizon. A few boats swayed in the water. The late afternoon sky perfectly complemented the cool waters of the lake. The grass and trees lined in nicely.

"Can you swim in it?" Shun asked.

"Yes, you can," he explained, "but only from Memorial Day, that's the last Monday in May, and Memorial Day, the first Monday in September. That means you won't be able to starting next Monday.

"We should come back and bring our suits!" Shun insisted.

"We could tomorrow," Ryo offered.

On Sunday Ryo's Maxima drove into Lakeshore Park, which had the beach along Walled Lake. The green grass gave way to a small beach in front of the endless crystal-colored lake. Along the way lifeguard towers stood above the beach, with muscular men wearing reflective shades and visors. Shun popped out of the car, holding a fuzzy yellow beach towel. The wolf-boy had no shirt on, and his navy blue swim shorts decorated with dog bones ended a little above his knees. Gaku emerged from the vehicle, his skinny, emaciated-looking body exposed. He had a pair of red swim shorts, held with a drawstring, decorated in circles and ending at his knees. Ryo emerged, with his paunch, wearing a green drawstring swimsuit with mountain patterns ending at his knees. The parking lot was on the opposite side of Lake Drive from the beach… the trio went in an underpass to get to the beach.

As they emerged, Ryo said "Shun, you know beginning next week I'm going to be invited to many golf games and parties, and on many weeks I'll be going to meetings down in Tennessee and Mississippi. I don't just work at an office. It'll be awhile before your old man will get to do a lot of stuff with you, huh?"

"Yeah, it will be lonely," Shun said.

"You've got Gaku-san! And your new friends!" he reminded Shun. Shun loved being around his cousin, and Gaku didn't see it as an insult. But Shun was a daddy's boy and a momma's boy. He eagerly looked forward to his Skype sessions with Yukie, but he missed her warmth and her touch. And he was going to miss not seeing his father. But anyway…

"Let's go in the water!" Shun cried.

"Gaku and I going to read a book and relax in the sun, Shun, but you can go out and play in the water."

"OK!" he cried as he skipped towards the lake. Many families were out, with middle-aged fathers in swim shorts, middle-aged mothers in bikinis and one-piece suits, and children of all sizes and some teenagers swimming everywhere, covering the water surface. Shun waltzed into the water. Ooh, it felt a bit cold, but his body adjusted and he soaked in.. The fresh lakewater was not salty at all. It was soothing, relaxing. A soda pop for the skin. Too bad it's closing after Labor Day. Shun did swimming exercises, and popped in and out, and splashed around. Then he floated on his back… Wait…

In the distance, he saw a figure emerge from the water to his left. Was it going to be a Bond Girl? Honey Ryder with a knife attached to her swimsuit? No.. it was a husky dog-man with his silver-dyed hair. Shun stood upright and dog paddled… he was sure that it was the guy from the grocery store. This time the dog-man had no shirt on. His pecs were quite developed, and a well-defined six pack was clearly visible. Shun could see the figure's Adam's apple bobbing; Shun himself had no visible Adam's apple. The dog-man's arm muscles were brawny and stood out. Then the dog-man got out of the water completely. He was only wearing a blue and white speedo! It was uncommon for men in America to wear speedos! So why would he be wearing that? Normally it would be considered disgusting for a man in America to wear a speedo, but the husky dog-man had the physique to do so tastefully. And it was a magnet for Shun's eyes. He stared at the dog-man's chest… then at his well-toned legs, and then… at the speedo itself. Shun felt a huge jolt go through his body, as if he touched a live wire. It was far beyond what he felt with the horse-man in the locker room. Shun's mouth was agape, and drool came out and mixed in with the lake water, swirling away. It was as if he was in a trance. Shun's swimsuit felt really, really uncomfortable.

"Shun! Is something the matter?" Ryo called out. Shun snapped out of it.

"Oh, uh, I'm okay!" Shun called out. But his face was beet red. His feelings were just subsiding, but he digested the new emotions inside him. Ryo didn't seem to notice…

That night, Shun didn't just keep himself warm. With the thoughts of the dog-man at the beach, he felt blazing hot. The box of tissues at his desk was now half-empty.

Throughout the week, Shun's classes came and went he became more and more engrossed in them. Every day, he sat at lunchtime with his friends and discussed the doldrums of school, current events around town, and, of course, video games. At his locker Shun sometimes encountered Gene, but usually only at the beginning of the school day. He tried to make small talk, but gave up when Gene seemed repulsed by anything Shun said. Was Gene just stressed every morning?

On Friday of that week, during the history class, Mr. Simmons reminded the students that there was going to be a big project for the six week cycle grade. They needed to think of a topic proposal and turn it in on the Thursday of next week, the day of the quiz. If a student didn't turn it in on time, the teacher would assign one to him or her. The rest of Shun's day went uneventfully.

When Shun was headed in a corridor to his English class, Tim appeared behind him and offered, "Hey Shun! This Saturday I'm going to be having a bunch of friends over."

"What are you doing?" Shun asked.

"Playing video games!" Tim answered.

"What do you have?" Shun asked.

"_Halo_! _Counter Strike_!" Those were shooting games that older teenagers liked but Shun played them with Gaku before the cousin was assigned to his job in Detroit.

"Do you have Mario games also?" Shun asked.

"Yep! But my friends like to play _Halo_!" Shun was fine with that.

"Who is coming?"

"Do you know Jacob, Phil, and Ken?"

"Yes." Shun had gym with the first two, and Ken was in his Japanese school class.

"They're coming. Plus a friend from church. And I invited some girls over too!" He nudged his shoulder towards Shun, hinting that he could "score."

"Ah, ok!"

"You don't seem too interested in the girls?" Tim asked. Shun didn't react the way that he anticipated.

"Well, no, I am," Shun said. But that instead made him think about the dog-man he saw at the store and at the beach.

"Plus, my parents are gonna be out of town," he grinned, "When you tell your dad or your cousin to let you in, don't tell them there aren't gonna be any parents!"

Shun's father was gone that weekend, for his company had him take a weekend trip to New York, without his child or nephew. That Saturday, after Japanese school ended, Gaku dropped Shun off at Tim's house and drove off. Shun observed that it looked just like every other house on the block, with the red bricks and the gray roof and the white colonial siding.

Tim greeted Shun at the door, saying "Hey, Shun!"

"How are you Tim?"

"Good! Come inside! You can go upstairs into my bedroom and join the other guys. They're playing _Halo_. I told them that you'll have a turn once they re-start the game. I'm gonna stay down here and order some pizza!" Tim had his mother's credit card, and he was going to use the landline so he didn't use his minutes on his cell phone.

When he entered the house, Shun noticed a déjà-vu effect; the walls were plain white and decorated with family photos and copies of works of classical art. The carpeting was all fuzzy white. Shun saw too many similarities to his own suburban house in Novi. Shun went up the staircase with the wooden rails, Shun passed by a lounge area with a small couch and a small television before entering Tim's bedroom.

The door to Tim's room, decorated with red letters reading "TIM," was wide open. Shun noticed the room was dimmed, and he saw the glow of a flat screen TV and four boys in front of a Xbox 360, sitting on an array of multicolored beanbag chairs. Shun recognized the game, _Halo: Combat Evolved Anniversary_.

Shun said, "Hi!" as he entered the room. The four boys briefly turned around. He recognized Ken Mutoh, the Japanese-American basketball player who this time was wearing a green and white Lakeside High basketball outfit, who sat on the red beanbag. He also saw Jacob Wang, the Chinese-American who was shorter than Ken, who sat on the blue beanbag. He then noticed Phil Schumann, the lanky White kid who looked a bit like Shaggy from _Scooby Doo _minus the goatee, who sat on the orange beanbag. But he did not recognize the fourth, a White boy with cornsilk hair and glasses, wearing a collared white shirt and gray slacks, who sat on the purple beanbag.

"Who are you?" the boy asked.

"I am Tim's friend, Shun Kodori!" said as he walked in.

"Oh, I'm Ricky. I go to Novi Jesuit, but I know Tim from back when he went to church with me." That was Novi Jesuit High School, the all-boys' Catholic school in town.

After a moment, Shun noticed the state of uncleanliness, with pizza boxes and empty coke cans scattered everywhere. The bed, covered with a blue bedspread, had binders and papers scattered everywhere. The wooden desk had used tissues, a closed gray laptop, a pair of headphones, and a printer. After marveling at the lack of order, for his father Ryo would be very mad if Shun left his room this messy, he sat on a green beanbag that had nobody sitting on it.

Shun asked, "I'd like to play! When can I play?"

"When the turn's over," Jacob answered. Shun decided to sit down and enjoy watching this round.

Ken declared "_Halo_ never gets old!"

Phil quipped, "It's better than _Metroid: Other M_."

Ken sighed, "I wish I could play as Samus Aran in _Halo_."

Jacob remarked, said "Well, my friend Bobby told me that he likes to _jerk off_ to Samus."

"Don't we all?" Ken asked.

"Lara Croft is hotter!" Phil declared.

"Tim's got millions of Rule 34 of both of them on his external hard drive!" Jacob added.

"It's got Princess Peach too!" Ricky cried!

"I'd jerk-off to Zelda, maybe, but Peach is too strange!" Ken screeched.

"What? Everyone likes Princess Peach!" Jacob responded.

Shun then asked "What is a 'jerk-off'?" And the boys stopped their banter and paused the game.

After a moment of silence, Jacob cried, "You are being such an F.O.B., Shun. You should know what that word means by now! You've been in America for two weeks and we all use that word!" Jacob wondered if Shun was serious.

"What does it mean?" Shun asked again. He was genuinely confused. He really didn't know.

Phil said, "Oh, 'jerk-off' means just to… give somebody a hug. It sounds sweeter than just saying you want a hug." The other boys didn't correct Phil, and instead they began snickering. "See those girls right there?" Phil asked, pointing to three girls who were in the hallway in the second floor lounge area, for Tim's bedroom door was wide open. Shun realized that they had gotten there while Shun was in Tim's room. Shun noticed that Melinda herself was the first girl. The second girl was Mina Kim, the Korean girl. The third was Chelsea Barron, and Shun realized that she was the girl who did the announcements every morning at Lakeside High. "Tell them that you want to jerk off with them. Go tell them. C'mon!" Something didn't feel right, but Shun walked up to the girls, who were holding cans of Vernor's ginger ale as they chatted with one another. Phil began to snicker himself.

Shun walked up to them and said, "Melinda, Mina, Chelsea, my friend said that I should say that I should jerk off with you." Chelsea walked away immediately. Mina shook her head.

Melinda sighed, muttering "those boys," then and annoyedly said to Shun, "Stop letting them mess around with you." The boys erupted in laughter.

"Funyuu! Mess around?" Shun asked. Ken walked up to Shun and said in English, "Shun, 'jerk-off' means to masturbate!" He then said the word "masturbate" in Japanese to emphasize it and drive the point home.

"Hafu! You tricked me!" Shun cried.

"You're evil, all of you are evil," Melinda said as she walked with Mina as the other boys laughed and Shun pouted. They unpaused the game as Shun continued to watch. At the time game ended, but at that time Shun's phone vibrated. Shun realized he got a text from Gaku, saying that he was going to be coming to pick him up at 10:45 PM. As Shun checked his text, Ken quickly went through the menus, without prompting Shun on if he wanted to join, as he set the new game up.

Once he noticed a new game just started, Shun asked, "When can I have a turn?"

"It's gonna take thirty minutes and we just re-started," Jacob said.

"Funyuu! But Tim said I could have a turn during the last game."

"Well, we just started again. You should have spoken up that time," Ken remarked.

Tim ran upstairs and yelled, "I got the pizza ordered!"

"Awesome!" Jacob cried.

"Why isn't Shun playing? Isn't he supposed to have a turn?" Tim asked.

"Well, it's not his turn yet," Jacob said.

"But you had just re-started. I invited him over here because he's that good. Just let him play," Tim said.

"Didn't you get some Sora Aoi pics?" Ken asked, changing the subject.

"Yup!" Tim answered.

Ken paused the game and asked, "So can we see them?"

"Sora Aoi?" Shun asked.

"Dude, you are Japanese! You have to know who Sora Aoi is! She's the hottest porn star in Japan!" Ken cried.

"She's in China too, my cousins at Tsinghua University have external hard drives full of her shit!" Jacob remarked.

Tim announced, "We're seeing her now!" as he brought out his laptop on his desk, unfolded it, and plugged in the external harddrive. After clicking an icon looking like a Word document, Tim tapped his keyboard and a folder containing hundreds of softcore photos of Sora Aoi's breasts, vagina, buttocks, and everything else was revealed.

"Oohhh, wooow!" the boys said as they gawked around. Shun took a peek, but he didn't feel anything special. It seemed kind of gross. Was he supposed to like it? For some reason seeing naked pictures of women didn't make him feel funny. He never felt the need to see them. Was it… a defect?

"Hey, you need to keep looking!" Ken cried, "it's so hot!"

"Oh-ok," Shun replied as he craned his neck.

Suddenly Melinda barged in yelling, "Heyyy!" The boys quickly shut down the display of nudie pics. "What were you doing up there?" she asked. She winked – perhaps she knew, but the boys didn't want to admit it.

"Don't barge into my room," Tim blurted.

"Whatever," Melinda laughed. "You said we could watch something on your TV, but I need to do setup. Tim, come on down!"

"Really? It shouldn't be that difficult to set it up," he sighed.

"C'mon," she said as she lead him downstairs. Now it was just Shun and the four boys again.

"Oh, I know what Shun needs to see!" Phil cried.

"What?" Jacob asked.

"Two Girls One Cup!" The boys laughed, but Shun was confused.

"Look, it's just two hot chicks and their ice cream and how they have only one cup to eat it in," Phil explained.

"You aren't going to trick me again," Shun asked, "are you?"

"No, no, no," Phil laughed, "you've gotta see it." The snickering continued.

Shun sat and paid attention as Phil loaded up the video on a website.. but it said "Video removed." Phil tried another link, but it didn't work. Why wasn't it working?

"It's taking too long," Jacob complained.

"Do Meatspin!" Ricky blurted!

"Meatspin?" Shun asked.

"As you wish," Phil chimed as he typed in the website. As soon as he saw the horrible video of two men…

"Aaaaahhhhhhhh!" Shun cried.

"You scream like a girl!" Jacob quipped.

"That was annoying!" Ken cried. Phil was laughing his ass off as he closed the web browser, causing the music to stop.

"So I guess Shun's not officially gay! He didn't even make it to 10 spins, let alone 50!" Phil laughed. Ricky frowned a bit. He hoped Shun would have made it to at least 100 spins.

"What was that?" Melinda cried as she and Tim entered the bedroom. Tim overheard the "not officially gay" bit so he knew they had tricked him into watching Meatspin. Even though Melinda wasn't aware of that website, she just knew what the boys were doing.

"We were just messing around with him," Jacob answered.

"It's just a joke!" Phil cried.

"Stop messing with him! Shun's a nice kid!" Melinda cried.

"Guys, how about you play video games with him," Tim said with a sternness of a schoolmarm. "He's _really _good."

"You've been saying that, Tim," Ken barked.

"Well," Tim frustratedly said, "then let him show you."

"Why?" Jacob asked.

"He beat _Battletoads_."

"_Battletoads_?" Jacob cried.

"Dude, just let him play _Halo_," Tim sighed, "it's my house. And you are using my console."

Sure enough, Shun switched places with Ricky. Soon Shun was racking up the kills, cleverly using his weapons. Any doubt over his videogaming skills had been erased. He was doing far better than the other three boys, who had been thoroughly humbled.

"What the fuck? Why are you so good?" Jacob cried.

"I don't know," Shun said. It was honest, not sarcastic.

After fifteen minutes of game time, Mina ran upstairs and yelled "Tim! The pizza guy is here!"

Tim sighed, "let's eat downstairs. It's too crowded up here." Shun, Tim, and the boys headed downstairs, and Tim brought in four boxes of Little Caesar's Pizza. He placed the boxes on the dining room table and opened them, revealing pepperoni, cheese, and sausage thin crust pizzas and one Detroit deep dish style pizza. As Shun took a paper plate and loaded it with pizza, he wondered about himself. He recalled feeling funny when he was seeing that horse-man dressing in the locker room, and then when he saw the dog-man at the lake. But, was that… right? It couldn't be… it's just a phase, right? Shun wasn't sure of who he was. What Shun didn't realize was that, there were many kinds of love out there, like the varieties of pizza, and the one Shun will find differs from the one preferred by about 90% of his classmates.

As the date of the American history quiz on the Thursday of the third week of school approached, Shun cracked the books in his room, going over the terms in the book and making simple listings of the words. The wolf-boy figured it would be mostly a definition style quiz, and the essays would probably be not terribly substantial. The class didn't seem too bad. Every night, the light was on at his desk, and he pored over the terms in the back of the chapters. He had other quizzes to study for too, but he spent most of his studying time on his history books. But only went over the chapters talked about in class; he didn't consider there would be other content, and didn't ask the teacher what to expect. The class did not seem terribly hard to him.

Mr. Simmons mentioned the project proposal deadline one more time on Wednesday, and Shun did make a note of it in his book, but that night he had to work on his first major English paper, which was on _Romeo and Juliet_, so he had forgotten entirely about the project proposal. The day of the quiz came… Mr. Simmons filed down the rows, handing out the quizzes. The class lasted fifty minutes, but the quiz was to take maybe fifteen to twenty minutes. The definitions part only counted for 20% of the grade. The rest was essay-based, asking for students' thoughts on how these events in the early history of the U.S. could be compared to later events in the Revolutionary War, Civil War and the modern era. Shun vaguely recalled some events, so he wrote responses maybe one or two sentences long. But the spaces for the answers seemed fairly long. But the wolf-boy felt he just answered the questions sufficiently in two sentences a piece. He looked over his questions one more time before he turned in the quiz.

The Friday morning following the quiz, Shun woke up early and headed downstairs. His father was always an early bird, sipping green tea while reading the newspapers. It was _The Detroit News_, the_ Oakland Press_, and on Fridays, the _Jangle_, in that order. The first was one of the main newspapers of the Detroit area, while the second was a newspaper published in Pontiac, the county seat of Oakland County. Ryo bought both to keep up. He could always read them online for free, as Gaku did, but he had a preference for having the news in a dead tree form. There's something about having a paper and looking at the stock market each morning before work, while drinking a coffee-except in Ryo's case, he had tea instead. The _Jangle_ was a weekly Japanese expat newspaper based in the Chicago area, but also distributed in the Detroit area; the paper had a little Detroit-area office in Farmington Hills, near the Nissan offices where Gaku and Ryo Kodori worked. Since it was a Friday, there was a _Jangle_ for Shun's father to read.

"Hi Dad," Shun greeted.

"Hi, Shun," Ryo responded as he just read the news about the stock market in _The Detroit News_; he always checked for the performance of the Nikkei, but recently he had put some money in American stocks too.

"Are we ever going to take a trip to Nashville?" During the week Shun's father had taken a business trip to Tennessee; he flew to Nashville on Tuesday for a meeting at the Nissan offices nearby and didn't come back until Wednesday evening.

"We can. Nashville's got some great country music, I'll say. The Nanases wished that we had come down there instead. They said you should come with me next time I go on the weekend." Ryo said. After a pause, he asked, "You did good, right?"

"I think so," Shun replied. American schools with six week grading systems, or ones that issue report cards every six weeks, often have progress reports at the three week intervals to notify parents of the academic performance of their children.

"Good boy!" Ryo said as he patted Shun's head.

As of this week, homerooms were now only held regularly on Fridays during mornings, but they were also held on some special days. When Shun appeared at his homeroom that morning in homeroom, Mr. Simmons gave each student a sheet of paper with multicolored layers. The top layer, colored white, was to go be signed by all of their teachers, indicating their grades, with the ink going into all of the layers below. The bottom layer, yellow, was to torn off and given to the final teacher at the end of the day. The parent is to sign the progress report on the white sheet, and keep the pink sheet. The white sheet is turned in to the homeroom teacher within three days.

Mr. Simmons announced, "And the 10th grade classes may be going to the Detroit Institute of Arts at the end of the grading cycle." Shun noticed a girl raising her hand. "Yes, Mina?"

"It's the art museum with the huge collection by Wayne State, right?" Mina Kim asked; she was also in Shun's homeroom.

"Yes, one of the museums with the largest art collections in the world!" Then a little someone raised his hand. "Yes, Shoon?"

"Does it have Japanese art?" Shun asked.

"All over Asia, Japan included," Mr. Simmons answered.

Shun blurted, "Hafu! I would like to see it sometime!"

A few rows behind, Eugene Kent snickered to himself and whispered "Hafu! Funyuu!" in mockery to some dude next to him before snickering again. Shun's verbal tics in Japanese bled into his English, and somehow they rubbed Gene the wrong way, annoyed him to the point where he made fun of them. There were others who the interjections sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard, but they kept that to themselves, knowing that it wasn't Shun's fault, that he was new to the country and that was just his way of speech.

After homeroom, the history class began, and the lesson was on Colonial Life before the French and Indian War. As usual Shun scribbled his notes, picking up as many details as possible, trying to get every scrap of information. Then the teacher announced that at the end of the class, the students could pick up their quizzes, and also have their progress reports signed. One by one, Mr. Simmons began calling the names by the English language alphabetical order.

"Cassandra Andrews. Avery Atwell. Sean Black." And one by one the students went to the teacher's desk to pick up the quiz and get the progress report signed. "Timothy Buckland," the teacher called. The red-haired deer-boy headed to the desk. Then when he headed towards Melinda and Shun, he gave a thumbs up and a wide smile showing the red, white, and blue brackets of his braces.

"Whaddya get?" Melinda asked. Timothy showed the quiz: "86 B"

"That's great!" Shun cried. Then he revealed the progress report, a "76 C"

"How did you get a lower grade on your progress report?" an astonished Melinda asked, her face forming a quizzical look.

"Didn't turn in one of my homework assignments," Tim shrugged. Melinda gave a disapproving frown.

Then the names down the list continued. Then… the teacher called "Shoon Kodorry" and the little wolf-boy got up from his desk, eager to see what grade he got. Shun walked a few paces to the teacher's desk, past several rows of students, and handed over the progress report sheet. Mr. Simmons had a poker face, just as he did with the other students. Shun couldn't tell what the teacher was thinking, as he wrote down the scores. Mr. Simmons produced the quiz and the progress report behind it, and Shun's heart began to beat quickly, anticipating the grade. Back at his desk, a familiar face smiled eagerly.

"Whaddya get?" Melinda asked.

"I will find out," Shun said as he peeked at his quiz. The multiple choice questions he got 8/10 correct. But then he flipped to the essays, and there were tons of comments in red. Comments such as "You didn't explain this" and "Why?" and "That's not what the Civil Rights movement was about" and "How does this compare to the governing system today?" Shun gasped.. Tons of "-1s" and "-5s" dotted the pages. Then he saw the total score on the quiz: "43 F." In the U.S. school system an "F" is a failing grade, and the range for an "F" at Lakeside Public Schools was anything below a 70. Shun's jaw dropped, and he began shaking profusely, afraid to look at his progress report. But he had to do it…

Shun had made a 97, a 96, and a 94 on the homework assignments, which were just answering questions in the textbook readings. Those seemed fairly easy, and together they made up 50% of his progress report. The other 50% was his quiz. And so the grade written in his progress report was "69.3 F". After chatting with a girl to her right, Melinda could see that not all was well with Shun.

"Shun?" Melinda asked. Shun looked like he saw the abyss and was hyperventilating heavily. His blue pupils were wide open as if they were sucking in a vortex.

Mr. Simmons said, "I hope you all have given me your topic proposals. If not, you'll have to see me at lunch and I'll give you a topic proposal."

"Shun," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. She then noticed the grade written on the progress report. "Shun… it's just a progress report. You have three weeks to make it up," Melinda assured. He didn't respond. His breathing became heavy and he clenched his fists. Tears streamed down his small cheeks, and a frown formed on his face. He buried his face in his hoodie sleeves, and he began to sob loudly. He didn't even realize that the whole room had turned around to look at him.

"Shoon…" the teacher called, commanding his attention. The wolf boy lifted his head up and sniffled, with snot dripping down his cheeks. "I think you need to be outside for a moment," he said. This made Shun droop even more. The teacher, being perceptive of Shun's mood, handed a tissue to Shun and said, "Shoon, you're not being punished. It's just, you need to cool down a bit, okay?" Shun nodded as he left the room, not realizing he was still holding his test.

Shun sat outside of the classroom, bawling his guts out, burying his head in his hoodie. Mr. Simmons meant well, but it was lonely out in the hall, without his friends.

A tall blond-haired figure with a patrician air about him walked with his friend, both carrying hall passes. He was Eugene Kent, from Shun's homeroom. He said "That Natsuko girl is such a stuck-up bitch, isn't she?" They were prounouncing Natsuko incorrectly, saying "Nat" as in "Natalie"… "Nat-sue-kou" instead of the proper Japanese pronunciation "Nah-tsko".

"Yeah," the friend said, "and she's not hot either."

Upon seeing Shun sob profusely, Gene asked "What's up with him?"

"Dunno," the friend responded. Shun didn't even notice the conversation. The quiz had slipped out of his fingers. Gene's friend rushed up and picked up the quiz, sharing it with Gene.

"Huh! I thought Asians were smart!" Gene's friend laughed.

"That's only with math, isn't it?" Gene chortled as he read over the quiz, before tossing it onto the ground and walking away with his friend. The cruel remarks didn't foment anger in Shun's little body, only inadequacy… he was supposed to be smart enough, to not fail this horribly.


	6. Chapter 4: The flood

At P.E. Shun was supposed to run a lap around the track, but he couldn't even run. He weakly walked, being dead last, causing Coach Nasser to ask him what was up with him, for he usually he did okay in track. For his other classes, Shun drooped in his seat, unenthusiastically watching the lessons and scribbling down notes in uncharacteristically bad Japanese handwriting. Somehow it escaped the teachers that he was really depressed, or maybe they pretended not to notice. It didn't matter that he got pretty good progress report grades for his other classes, that history grade was a nasty cloud over his head.

At the start of his lunch period, Shun met Mr. Simmons in his classroom.

"Shoon, at the counselor's office it was explained that you need a basic understanding of American history to do well in this class."

"Yes, but my father said that he wanted me to take that class, and take all IB so I can get credit at the Japanese university." Shun didn't even mention that the real factor behind it all was his grandfather.

"Look, I think it was irresponsible of your father to push you to take this class, but it's too late to change your schedule for this semester. I would try to do as well as you can, and hopefully you can switch to an easier class next semester. Also, I don't remember... did you turn in your topic proposal, Shoon?"

Shun gasped, realizing he forgot to turn in his topic proposal. "Hafu! No! I forgot..."

Mr. Simmons sighed, before saying "Okay, then I'll pick a topic that might be doable. For your project for this six weeks, I want you to compare and contrast the Revolutionary War to the Meiji Restoration. I've had a lot of Japanese students mention the Meiji Restoration, so I think it would be an interesting topic for you. Also your sources need to be in English, so we can understand anything you use." Shun nodded his head. It was doable, but it needed a lot of work, and he wasn't sure of what sources in English there were about the Meiji Restoration. Shun's sniffles broke Mr. Simmons's poker face, so he said, "Shoon, it's just a progress report grade, not a final report card grade. Chin up, okay?"

After meeting with the teacher, Shun went over by himself to a cafeteria table. He didn't even touch the ham and cheese Panini sandwich that Gaku had made the night before. Despite Shun's efforts to find solitude, he was a homing beacon to Tim and Melinda, who then sat across from Shun at the table.

"Look, you know what I do when I get a crappy progress report? I just sign my parents' signature, and they never see it! Why don't you do the same?" Tim offered.

"Tim! That's against the code of conduct! Shun would get in huge trouble if he did that!" Melinda cried.

"I get away with it," Tim muttered.

"And maybe he wouldn't!" Melinda screeched. "Don't suggest that garbage to him!" To Shun she said, "Look, it's just a progress report. It's not even a report card. You'll do better in three weeks, okay?" Shun weakly nodded. But there was something he wasn't telling his American friends, for he didn't think it was their business.

At the end of the day, he got his English essay back.. It was a "76 C" and so the progress report for English was an "84 B." When Gaku picked up Shun that afternoon, Gaku knew from Shun's ashen face that he had gotten a bad grade in something. At the house Shun slumped on the couch, watching but not watching an American soap opera on the television. He had attempted to play _Gyakuten Saiban 4_, known to Americans as _Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney_, but he couldn't do so well in defending his client, so he just stopped. As Gaku was making microwave dinners, he heard the landline telephone ring in the kitchen.

"Moshi-moshi?" Gaku greeted in the customary Japanese fashion; most of the people calling the Kodori house in Novi were Japanese. "Iwao-sama?" he asked.

"Iwao-sama!" Shun shuddered. "Sama" is a Japanese honorific for the most-revered, the one to be loyal to. American children called their grandparents "grandpa" and many Japanese children called their grandfather "jii-chan" which has the same fuzzy connotations as "grandpa." But Iwao Kodori wasn't exactly the fuzzy kind of grandfather all the time.

"It's been several weeks. Do you know what grades Shun has achieved so far?" Iwao pointedly asked. "I want to know."

Gaku sweated a bit as he looked at his cousin's progress report. "Well it's just a progress report issued at a three week interval," Gaku offered, trying to sound nonchalant and reassuring.

"I want... to know... the grades." Iwao demanded.

Gaku felt his chest tighten, and then he started with Shun's second period class. "Physical Education 92," Gaku started.

"What else?" Iwao demanded.

"Uhm... Algebra II, 96. Chemistry, 95. Theater, 96. Sociology, 97. English, 84." Iwao could tell Gaku was trying to buy time somehow, that Gaku was hiding something. Then he got to save the worst for last. "U.S. History... 69.3."

"69.3 in a class!" Iwao cried. Gaku's grand plan didn't work.

"Well, his other grades are pretty good for the first time, and I told you before Shun left that it was a class for American students and he's just getting used to..."

"Get Shun on the phone," Iwao interrupted. Gaku could swear the receiver was yelling at him, bubbling in a cartoon style.

"The phone is for you," Gaku said after a sigh. Shun trembled weakly, but Gaku gave Shun a stare, telling him that he had to do it. Shun walked into the kitchen, where the phone was.

"Iwao-sama," Shun weakly said.

"Shun, you know that your father and I had a deal. I didn't like doing it, but I figured you would just breeze through whatever crappy American school you were put in. But look at this! How did you get such a bad grade?" Not a word about his other grades.

"There was a quiz, and I did well on the homework, but the quiz, I..." Shun couldn't bring himself to say it.

"I want you to do better next progress report. I am going to ask your father to send you back to Japan if you don't do better, okay? I don't like not having you here to perform the ceremonies, and it seems like there isn't even a good reason for you to be here. Maybe you'll prove me wrong, but I doubt it."

Shun was in tears after the phone call was terminated.

The following day after Japanese school, Gaku invited Shun to the library, making it clear that he had to take the offer this time; if Shun was with him, with only books, there was no way Ryo or Iwao could accuse him of allowing him to play video games all day, even though Shun was quite diligent with his studies. And letting him study with school friends was not an option either since he feared Iwao could accuse Shun of using that time to covertly hang out. As Shun was putting his DS in his pocket, Gaku said "Don't." The day was cloudy, and things weren't particularly pretty out. Then again Shun still wore a frown on his face, thinking about Iwao-sama's threat, knowing that he wasn't going to go over to Tim's house on weekends for awhile. Ryo was out playing golf with Oakland County officials, so he wasn't home and wasn't going to be home until it was very late. He had signed the progress report before leaving for the golf game, knowing that Iwao had already given Shun a stern talking-to.

Shun boarded Gaku's Altima with his blue backpack and several of his schoolbooks, but with none of the games he enjoyed, and the vehicle left the Kodori house driveway and the same-ish houses around the block. Without his beloved video games, all Shun could do is look out the window. The Altima drove past the school, past the storefronts. The tempo of some nondescript pop went into high gear as Gaku pushed on the accelerator, entering the Walter P. Reuther Freeway, going eastbound. Through the window Shun could see trees and occasional guardrails when the freeway passed over a road. Periodically Shun could see a freeway exit or two, marked by a green sign with an arrow pointing to the right. Gaku grew tired of the pop songs, so he switched the radio to the news, talking about a bombing in some faraway country, talking about the stock market, things that were completely uninteresting to Shun. A brick wall and a few scattered modern buildings broke the monotony of endless trees. Just then, Gaku took Exit 8 "Lodge Fwy Telegraph Rd", going onto the John C. Lodge Freeway.

Out the window, Shun could observe the sterile high-rise glass and steel buildings of the suburb of Southfield, looming over the grassy fields next to the freeway. Gaku calmly steered the vehicle along with the flow of the trucks and cars, exactly going the speed limit. The wolf-boy could see a small poodle in the blue Honda Civic traveling next to him, a poodle that was half-out the window, sticking out its tongue and enjoying the wind. The Altima drove past several more modern buildings, and the freeway began to dip under the surface roads. Plain concrete walls whizzed past the windows of Gaku's sedan, and Shun pouted, upset to not even see interesting scenery. Bridges marked with the names of the roads, such as "Northland Drive" towered over all of the Detroit-bound cars on the freeway. Shun saw an elevated road marked "Wayne County Detroit City Limits" to the left and "8 Mile Road" to the right fly over the car. That was Eight Mile Road, the barrier between the endless suburbs of Oakland County, and the City of Detroit. Shun Kodori was visiting the City of Detroit for the very first time in his life!

The freeway was still sunken and little Shun still just saw the little tops of trees, so he couldn't see much of the city. The concrete barriers gave way to grassy plains, and Shun saw some of the houses lining the freeway. This was Detroit, but it didn't feel like a city... it was as flat and open as Novi. But unlike Novi the houses were older, distinct... crafted in brick with tall chimneys and wood siding. They looked a bit worn, as if time had taken a toll on them and they wanted to take a nap. An red-colored elevated walkway for zoomed by. Further down the Lodge Freeway, billboards enticed motorists to try to eat something at Applebee's, buy lottery tickets, or to get braces. Gaku put on his turn signal upon detecting a green sign perched on a concrete bridge lined with a fence, reading "Exit 4C W Grand Boulevard" with, in yellow, "Exit Only." Gaku steered the car into the right lane, exited the freeway, and took a left turn onto Grand Boulevard.

The car now went down East Grand, no longer West, piercing the heart of the New Center district. Unlike in Japan, where land was at a premium and where skyscrapers were surrounded by other buildings, New Center had several large buildings that were surrounded by empty grass fields and parking lots, lonely as if they were on an island. There weren't too many people walking around and about either. In Japan the streets were always packed, even in Shun's suburb. The tall Fisher Building, to the wolf-boy's left, reminded Shun of something from a Batman cartoon he once watched on TV, dubbed in Japanese. The gray marble, granite, and limestone exterior, topped with a spire, was decorated in a 1920s art deco style. Nothing like this building existed in Novi! To his right was Cadillac Place, the old General Motors headquarters now housing offices of the State of Michigan, made up of the same materials that formed the Fisher Building. It was another art deco structure that looked, from the front, like four pillars, each dotted with square windows, on top of a slab of ancient history with arched entranceways. But from the side, Shun could see the "pillars" were like horizontal blocks extending to the other end of the complex. The New Center One Building, a nine-story hexagon structure built in the 1980s on the other side of Second Avenue from the Fisher Building, was looking out of place in the shadows of the Art Deco buildings. The median had perfectly lined trees, opening up as if they were umbrellas. The street lamps had maroon banners reading "New Center" with an outline of the Fisher Building, welcoming motorists to a business district that had seen better days.

Gaku Kodori took a right turn at Woodward Avenue, past a modern gray steel mid-rise labeled "Lakeshore," a clothing store marked "Rainbow", and an old-style three story building with miscellaneous shops. Out the window was the Detroit Amtrak station, which never commanded a fraction of the amount of traffic that the JR Stations back home had, a gas station, and other some scattered low rise buildings. This was Woodward Avenue, Detroit's main artery and vein. The Altima headed south towards its ultimate destination, popping under the Edsel Ford Freeway.

Out the other side, Shun could see a mishmash of various building styles new and old. To his left, something that looked like a miniature castle and then a boring parking garage and a large 1920s high rise known as the The Park Shelton, a condo complex that had a former life as a hotel. To his right, a three story tan building with a red roof that seemed like a hat and a tan and white striped first floor that seemed to have a mouth with stairs rolling out like a tongue loomed in front of him. That was the Beecher House, one of several buildings that made up a part of Wayne State University, the major state university in Midtown Detroit.

After the Altima drove past the condos and the houses, Shun noticed something to his left... a proud tan brick building with three arched entrance ways, like triplets conjoined to each other. There were three symmetrical sets of stairs leading up to the arched entranceways. Shun could spot a water fountain gushing in front, American and Michigan state flags hoisted high on poles flapping in the light wind. Then there were the words etched in English on the top of the entranceway: "THE DETROIT INSTITUTE OF ARTS." That's the museum that was brought up in homeroom yesterday. Shun's body noticed that the car was slowing down, and Shun cocked his head to his right.

It was a proud three story building with a lone black door at the bottom, with several square windows to the side. The second floor had seven arched windowsills, like hungry mouths. On the Italian Renaissance style building constructed in the 1920s, Shun could make out the names "Aeschylus," "Archimedes," "Socrates*Plato," "Cicero*Caesar," "Aristotle," and "Epictetus" on the side of the building.. all Greek and Roman philosophers, writers, and historical figures that he knew little about but were held up in high esteem in the Western cultures.

"We're here," Gaku announced.

"Is that..." Shun began to ask.

"It's the library," Gaku said before Shun could even finish the sentence. It's where Shun's cousin had his Saturday meetings with his committee, and where he could ensure Shun would be buried in his books. Detroit, the automobile capital of the world, echoed a long history, a history not present in the newfangled Novi that grew out of a mold from somewhere in Oakland County, and Shun felt a curiosity, wondering what the Motor City contained within its borders. Did Detroit have a pleasant, well-kept secret or two for the little wolf-boy, something that the news would never report on in a million years?

Gaku took a left on Farnsworth Street and parked at a meter; it was a Saturday afternoon, so there weren't so many cars on the street. The sky was still gray, but maybe it was clearing up?

"Let's go inside," Gaku told Shun. Going up the steps reminded Shun of boss levels, levels of video games with those huge castles and those enemies. The library became more fearsome and majestic as he took those steps. And the inside of the main portion of the library was decorated with murals, ornate ceilings, stained glass, and frescoes swirling around, as if the library itself was an art museum featuring classical European works. Shun's mouth dropped open upon seeing candy for the eyes.

"What… _is_ this?" an entranced Shun asked.

"It's what I see every Saturday," remarked Gaku nonchalantly, with no change in his facial expression or the tone of his voice.

At the circulation desk Shun asked if he could have a library card. The woman asked if he was a resident of the City of Detroit, and he said he said no, that he lived in Novi.

"Unfortunately, no, you will have to keep those books in the books in the library, unless you want to pay $100 for a library card. Alternatively you could have them shipped to your library in an inter-library loan transfer."

"I'm not paying $100 for you to get a Detroit library card. You can just do your research for your report here and take the notes home," Gaku ordered.

Shun and his cousin used a catalog computer to look for some books Shun could use in his project. Using a scrap of paper and a tiny pencil Shun wrote down the call numbers.

After shopping around the various corridors for the books, going by the Dewey decimal system, the wolf-boy and his cousin entered the South Wing of the library. The Detroit Public Library, in addition to the historic main library building, had two wings, north and south. The South Wing, which had undergone a fresh renovation, was built years after the main section it was decorated in a modern style. A wooden trim echoed around, with the bookshelves and help desks being made out of wood. The ceilings and floors were manila with swirls of brown wood. The trash cans, desks, and tables were made of steely metal. This modern wing was fresh in its own right, but couldn't hold a candle to the opulent beauty of the main entrance.

In one corridor, a study area was outside of a meeting room. "Just pick a good spot to study and take notes. I'll be in that room," Gaku said. Shun peered around the quiet patrons sitting around the tables, with their noses in their books, wearing earbuds of their iPhones, or taking a little nap with their heads on the desk or slouched over in orange and yellow lounge chairs that seemed European to him. Shun zeroed in on an empty seat at a table… An empty seat next to a dog-man… with dyed silver hair… wearing a leather motorcycle jacket and blue jeans! It was him! His laptop was open, and so was a book. Perhaps his mind was open too? But what chances did a lowly high school student have with this guy? And chances are he has a girlfriend somewhere, right? But it wouldn't hurt to sit next to him, would it?

Shun tiptoed into the seat next to him, and he sat down quietly, treating the guy next to him in a royal fashion, to be fawned over. Shun stared at the dog-man just momentarily. He seemed so determined, so focused as he tapped the keyboard and read what was on the screen. It was kinda scary to him, but it also was... intriguing. Enticing? What would you say to him? Shun really wanted to talk to him, say hi, but he felt nervous and blushed a little, unable to say a word. But when the dog-man looked back at Shun, curious about the stare, Shun darted his eyes away in guilt. Shun buried his nose in the book as the dog-man got back to work, turning a page before tapping his keyboard some more.

At one point Shun felt thirsty, so he got up to look for a soda machine. There was one near the bathroom. He had a few leftover quarters in his pocket, so he bought a Pepsi and returned to his desk. Going through the English language book on the Meiji Revolution surprised him… it was reading about his own country in a foreign language for a school project in the United States. And he really enjoyed the book. Upon reading the descriptions of the battles, Shun thought, "Wow, that's a really good source!" As he excitedly tried to turn the page, his wrist hit the soda can. It was enough to tip the soda pop can until it fell. The fizz was the death knell for the dog-man's book, now covered in brown sugary goo, with its pages instantly brittled. Thankfully the dog-man jerked away the laptop before the drink could race over to touch it. Shun's mouth dropped open.

"You-you destroyed my book!" the dog-man roared in English, with his frustrations built up over the previous week-having the manager yell at him for being five minutes late, having a professor assign ridiculously long readings, and having the water stop working in his apartment-coming loose, as he leaped out of his seat. "You ruined it!" he cried. The people sitting around turned their heads as they heard a fresh confrontation.

"Oh no! I'm sorry!" Shun cried, speaking in English. He was on the verge of bursting into tears.

"Yeah, you should be sorry for being careless! That could have ruined my computer!" Kouya cried. He was about to verbally tear Shun a new one, but Kouya saw the tears on the wolf-boy's cheeks, and the sad whimpers coming from him. It guilted him into an angry silence.

A woman said, "Will you keep it down? It's a library!"

"Sorry," the dog-man sighed.

Shun's cries had ebbed somewhat, but sniffles and sobs still pierced the library's sense of quiet. Shun's eyelids were reddened and pained-looking frown was etched across the teenage wolf-boy's face. This time the dog-man's heart was beginning to melt. He could tell that Shun was genuinely upset over ruining his book.

"W-what should I do?" Shun whimpered as he sniffled.

"That book costs sixty dollars," the dog-man explained, "and now I will have to buy a new one to replace it."

"T-that much?" Shun asked, and he began trembling violently.

"Yes, college textbooks are expensive," the dog-man sighed, "and that one is at the low end of things." It made Shun's frown widen even more; he had damaged an _expensive_ book.

"D-Do you want me to p-pay you back?" Shun asked, with anxiety in his voice, desperately trying to quash whatever anger the husky dog-man had left him.

"That's what I hoped for," the dog-man, "or you can buy me a new book."

"What is the book called?" Shun's sobs began to ebb as the dog-man began to look relieved.

"Introduction to Public Speaking by Billy Johnson."

"Ok," Shun said as he wrote down the title with his pen on a piece of paper. After a thought… "Are you Japanese?" Shun asked. He remembered what Jacob said to him in gym class. Were his assumptions wrong? But he had seen the dog-man at the Japanese grocery store… so…

"Yes," the dog-man responded, switching into Japanese.

"Hafu! Me too! I am Shun Kodori," Shun said, now also speaking Japanese.

With a bit of pleasant surprise expressed in his voice, he answered "My name is Kouya Aotsuki."

"Shall I call you Aotsuki-san?" Shun asked.

"Why don't you call me by my first name?" Kouya asked. "I've gotten used to it, and frankly I prefer being called by my first name."

"So shall I call you Kouya-san?"

"Sure," Kouya said. Switching to English, he said "When speaking in English, you can call me just 'Kouya'."

"Okay!" Shun said in English.

"How about I call you Shun-kun?" Kouya offered, "it rhymes." But it also seemed cutesy, for Shun looked cute as a button.

"My friends in Japan call me that, so Okay!"

"Look, when do you want to meet me to give me a new book? Because I'll need it quickly," Kouya asked.

"Where can I get a copy?" Shun asked.

"There is a bookstore around here, the Marwill Bookstore," the dog-man answered, "and though you can get it online too, it could take longer." After a beat, "Why don't we exchange phone numbers? So if something comes up and you can't give the book to me right away, you can just call me," Kouya offered.

On the inside, Shun thought, "Oh my gosh, he's offering to give me his _phone number_!" and his head felt warm. But on the outside he merely said "OK!"

"So, are you in school?" Kouya asked.

"Yes, I go to Lakeside High School in Novi."

"I go there to get Japanese groceries."

"Hafu! I swear, I've seen you before at the Japanese grocery."

"You probably did see me," Kouya smiled, "I go maybe once a week or every two weeks."

"S-so what about you, Kouya-san?"

"I'm a student at Wayne State. They have their own libraries, but I prefer studying here because the main undergraduate library is a zoo, and I wanted to get out of the house today. There's something about this place that I like, so I just study here." After a beat, Kouya said, "Anyway, I have to go. Let me know when you have the book for me, okay?" Kouya asked, with some sternness in his voice. "I want it by Friday of next week."

"Okay," Shun answered.

"I'll see you later," Kouya said as he stuffed the laptop in his backpack, collected the ruined book, and exited the room. Gaku, fresh out of his meeting, had heard some vague snippets, but didn't know the whole story.

"What happened between you and that guy?" Gaku asked.

"Are you happy about that?" Gaku asked, puzzled.

"No, but he was really nice about it," Shun answered. But there was more he was happy about. He was making a new friend. And he was getting closer to his crush! Could it be the start of a friendship, or something more?

As the two walked away from the library, and on Woodward Avenue, Shun told Gaku that the guy's name was Kouya Aotsuki, and he also mentioned the title of the book, the cost of sixty dollars, and the name of the bookstore Kouya mentioned.

"He said he needed the book by next Friday, right?" Gaku asked.

Shun thought for a moment, while blushing, and then said "Yes… but I think Kouya-san should have the book as soon as possible. Because… because Kouya-san may have some extra studying he could get done if he gets it sooner." Of course, there were other reasons Shun neglected to mention.

"How much money is in your allowance?"

"Uh, I think I have 6,320 yen." Shun's allowance was all Japanese cash, and he hadn't yet converted it into dollars. It was sitting in one of his dressers at home.

On his iPhone Gaku did some calculations. "Sixty dollars is 5,386 yen," he announced.

"Hafu! That's almost my entire allowance!"

"Well, that means you need to be careful next time…" Gaku said.

The Marwil Bookstore on Cass Avenue was a family-owned bookstore that served as the go to place for Wayne State students to get textbooks. Maybe a copy to replace Kouya's ruined textbook was on hand? The two combed through the store's aisles, looking for a copy of Kouya's book. After maybe fifteen minutes, Shun looked crestfallen as he met Gaku, who shook his head.

"It's probably not here, Shun," Gaku said, "let's go." But just as they were approaching the exit, Shun saw the book with his own eyes… on a display by the front foor, priced at $63! A bit higher than what Kouya paid, but Gaku said he was willing to pay the difference. Shun excitedly whipped out his phone and dialed Kouya's number. It instantly got to his voice mail, and the voice mail was full.

"Hmm… he doesn't seem to be answering," Shun sighed.

"You can just call him tomorrow," Gaku suggested.

The following Sunday morning, Kouya, with a terminal case of bed-head, drooled in his sleep as he clutched one of the two pillows on the bed (his head was on the other pillow). Then his phone, as usual chimed loudly, rousing him from his sleep with a grunt.

"Hello," Kouya greeted in the American style. "Shun-kun?" he said, switching from English to Japanese. "You have my book now? Uhm, yes, we could meet at the Olympic Grill? It's right next to the Marwil Bookstore, if that's where you went. Oh, yep, it's in the same center. I'll see you there!" Kouya had a wide smile on his face.

Kouya, now with his silver hair well-combed, sat at a table in the black and yellow checkered restaurant interior. This time, he had no motorcycle jacket on; just his tank top shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. A Coney dog, half-eaten, was in his. Kouya waited for a moment and checked his phone. He sighed as he planned to call the waitress to ask for his bill. Then he heard the door to the restaurant open and a voice calling his name, and it was a small teenage wolf-boy with a mop of brown hair and a blue and white hoodie and khaki shorts, carrying a blue backpack, with an older, slim wolf-man in a green polo shirt and khaki slacks who stood by silently. Shun apologized for being late. Kouya faced Shun, with a bit of surprise and relief welling up. Then the dog-man smiled as the book was in his hands.

"Thank you very much, Shun-kun," he said.

"Kouya-san, I'm the one who ruined your book, so there is no need to thank me," Shun bashfully replied.

"Don't be so modest," Kouya laughed, sensing that Shun's response was not mere politeness. "You know, though. I'm glad that you gave the book today. I was planning on borrowing the book from a classmate.. maybe one of those Chinese girls… but it would have been a pain, and I don't like putting people in those kinds of debts, because it could screw them over. I actually had an assignment from that book due Wednesday."

"Fyuun! I should be more careful next time," Shun cried.

Changing the topic, Kouya asked "So why did you go to the library?"

"Well, uhm, I got a bad grade on a quiz, and in the same class I need to do this project. My cousin told me I needed to come with him so I could study. He is a part of a committee that meets there every Saturday."

"What class is it?"

"American History."

"Did you take it before coming here?"

"No." Kouya looked to his right before returning his attention to Shun.

"I think I can help you out here. I understand it's hard for someone who just came here. Do you have some time?"

Gaku told Shun that they had time, and Shun replied, "Yes, I have some time."

"Look, I'll get you a coney dog and we can talk about this. Why don't you sit down?"

"A coney dog?"

"It's a Detroit specialty. It's a hot dog with lots of onions, chili, and mustard. You should have one!"

"Hafu! I'm fine, Kouya-san."

"C'mon, I insist," Kouya asked. It's customary for Japanese to initially refuse an item while expecting for the host to offer it again, but Shun really did feel a sense of awkwardness towards Kouya treating him to food. Shun said okay, and Kouya called the waitress and asked for one more coney dog. After she left, Kouya returned his attention to the wolf-boy, who sat across from him.

"Okay, why don't we go over that quiz you bombed?" Kouya asked.

"I think I have it here…" Shun said, as he opened his backpack. He flipped open his neatly organized binder, and he popped open the rings and handed the quiz to Kouya. As Kouya scrutinized the quiz, the waitress came back and placed the Coney Dog on Shun's side. Shun had eaten hot dogs before, but when he bit down on the Coney dog… it was something he had never tried before. The strong onions, the meaty chili, and the wisp of mustard roused his taste buds.

Throughout the whole time, a small smile appeared on Gaku's face. This college student dog-man may be the ticket for Shun to get good grades and keep staying in America.


	7. Chapter 5: The discovery

At the cafeteria on a Tuesday afternoon at Lakeside High, Tim, Shun, and Melinda sat at the table, as usual, trading lunches and talking about innocuous topics: video games, internet sites, and the doldrums of school. Shun sat to Tim's right and Melinda sat across from the boys. As the conversation intensified, a large boy with wire-thin glasses, well-combed wavy brown hair, a white T-shirt with a visual of the first 150 Pokémon on the front, and blue jean shorts, approached Tim.

"Hi Melvin!" Tim greeted. And the previous conversation was cut off.

"Tim, I've got a question for you. I hear you've got a big porn collection, right?"

"Yep!" he proudly affirmed with a smile. Melinda shot Tim a dirty look.

"So how do you get it without your parents knowing?"

"I encrypt my external hard drive," he grinned, "and the icon to access it all looks like a Word document, so they have no clue."

"No, I mean, how do you _get_ it?" Tim swiveled served his laptop over to show Melvin, who was standing behind him to Tim's left. Shun craned his head to look at the screen.

"Firefox or Chrome?" Tim asked.

"Firefox," Melvin answered.

As he demonstrated with the Mozilla Firefox program but without visiting any of the offending websites, as they were in a quite public place, Tim instructed "Go to 'Tools' and select 'Start Private Browsing'. Or just hit 'Control-Shift-P'. Click 'Start Private Browsing' … and now your browser is set so your history and cookies aren't recorded."

"And Chrome?"

While demonstrating with Chrome, he instructed, "So you go to the menu here, and open 'New Incognito Window.' So in those incognito windows you can also browse without having your history recorded. And remember in both, If Mom or Dad walks in, just exit the browser and it's all gone."

Shun Kodori learned well from Tim. When Gaku picked up Shun from school, he said that Shun's father was working late that night while working in a conference call with his colleagues in Tennessee, and Gaku said that he had lots of errands to do but he didn't need Shun to stay with him. So Shun was alone in his big, huge house in the suburbs, with not another soul inside. His house often felt lonely, for it was really made for four people, but only two lived there full time. But it was especially lonely with Shun home alone. Shun felt a pang of curiosity about this whole "porn" thing.

Shun opened his shiny laptop that his father had bought before they left for the United States. The Windows 7 computer had a Japanese interface, and Shun didn't change that when he got to the states. In Firefox he found the Japanese-language option for Private Browsing and set the browser into that mode. After typing in "google"—he had become accustomed to going to the American Google site instead of the Japanese Google site—he was greeted with a blank search bar, with the text cursor blinking as Shun contemplated his actions, questioning whether he should really be doing this. That blinking cursor was impatiently waiting for Shun to just type something already and get it over with. The wolf-boy caved into the search engine's demands by typing "PORN" in English. And he at first found pictures of women… but like the ones at Tim's house of Sora Aoi, they weren't very effective. After a little while Shun was about to give up until he noticed one site had a link titled "GAY PORN" in English. Shun wondered if that website was what he was looking for. A single click revealed that it had pictures, pictures, and more pictures of _men_. Men in skimpy clothing and naked men. Humans _and_ beast-men. In all colors, shapes, and sizes. Those pictures, especially those of the well-built, muscular beastmen, those that would appear in Japanese _bara_ magazines chock full of muscular men, were _super effective_.

Shun freaked out at just how raw and threatening the pictures were, and he shut the laptop. But in the manner that a moth gravitates to a lonely light bulb, Shun couldn't help but come back for more. He re-opened the laptop and nervously, cautiously went back to the same website that he found on Google, as if he was tiptoeing into the kitchen to take a cookie out of a cookie jar after he had already been caught once. Shun browsed through even more of those pictures… not only were them men barely dressed or totally in the buff, but they were doing strange things to each other. Some of the men even looked like they were in pain, with their facial muscles stretched to their limit, with grunting expressions, with their eyes looking like they were going to pop out. The provocative pictures caused a familiar sensation to shoot through him. And he dealt with that sensation by turning the lights off, removing his khaki shorts and leaving them on the floor, and having a private moment to himself on his bed, with the laptop perched at the foot of the bed. After maybe a minute or two he removed his briefs.

Shun longed for a sense of vulnerability. Those strange pictures made him feel vulnerable, as if those men wanted him and wanted to do things to him. Shun didn't yet fully understand how men did it with each other, but whatever it was, Shun wanted it. His head began to feel warm, his body began to sweat, his cheeks reddened, and his breathing began to feel labored as his thoughts began to drift. Kouya Aotsuki popped into his mind, and his brain focused on Kouya… Kouya wearing the tank top shirt showing the curves of his muscular chest, Kouya in the speedo at the lake, with almost of his attributes on display, and then his imagination of Kouya without the speedo. If Kouya was gay, maybe the dog-man would fall in love with him? Do that stuff with him? The thoughts of Kouya and Shun, together, naked, doing things, embracing each other, were the boiling point for him. He felt a strange shudder ripple through his body and he gasped once as if the wind was knocked out of him. Sweat from his body drenched his sheets. His breathing became less labored, and he sighed, as if relieved.

After it was all over and he threw the tissues in his trash can, he was shocked at how violent it was, at how much power those pictures had over him. Shun rested on his bed and reflected on things. He knew for certain that he had a lust for men. But did he _love_ men? Was he gay, or was it merely the fact that looking at pictures of naked men did strange things to him? Shun picked up his underpants and put them back on, but he realized that he hadn't yet exited from the browser window with the explicit content. Shun quickly closed the Firefox window, but then realized he needed to check his e-mail to see when his mom planned to Skype with him later that evening, so he opened a Chrome window and checked his e-mail account for any new mail with the sender 古酉 幸恵 (Yukie Kodori). As Shun's eyes went through the list of e-mails, a door swung open, and Shun was roused into sitting up straight.

"Shun?" Ryo Kodori asked. His white oxford shirt, navy slacks, and tie with navy blue and white stripes made Shun feel especially under-dressed."Why are the lights out?" he asked as he turned the lights on.

"Dad! What are you doing here?" Shun cried, partly jolted by the sudden flash of light. Shun's face turned red and he pulled the bottom of the hoodie sweatshirt down to cover his briefs.

"My conference call ended early." After a beat, he asked "Why do you have no pants on?"

"Dad, I wanted to change into my pajamas early, so…" Shun started.

"What's on your computer?" Shun's father icily interrupted. Shun nervously scooted away from the laptop and onto the pillow. Ryo Kodori rushed over and scrutinized the laptop, prying it open with his broad hands. He saw the single Chrome window with the e-mail listing and then backed away from the laptop.

"Put your pants back on," he demanded before he left the room. Thank goodness his father didn't look at what was in the trash.

Shun, now armed with awareness of his sexuality, realized that different objects and sex acts were like different kinds of food. Coney dogs, Mexican tacos, Swedish meatballs, or his mother's special Japanese cooking all had different flavors. For that matter, video games were different too, with each game having its own experience. So did these pictures, these videos, and these acts. But the wolf-boy realized that a lot of the pornography seemed… cruel. Loveless, without dignity. What he wanted was _love_, mixed in with the vulnerability and the awkwardness. He wanted somebody to treasure him and cuddle him and pamper him and say his name as he was naked with that somebody. But he wondered if he really did love men…

And love was in full blossom at Lakeside High School. Back in Japan, Shun's school strongly discouraged dating. It occurred, but students dated in a hush-hush manner. In America, students dated openly. Fresh-faced female cheerleaders with short skirts strutted around the halls with their beefy football player boyfriends. Public displays of affection, often quick kisses in hallways, were routine occurrences. No matter how often teachers pleaded and begged students to "get a room" they kissed. Shun heard that in other schools, some students went further in the stairwells. And then many high school kids brought up the English word "sexting." Shun didn't know what it meant, and he hadn't yet asked.

He even heard stories of teachers of both sexes seducing their students at various area high schools. It was illegal in Michigan for a teacher or school administrator to have sex with a student under 18 at his or her own school if the student was not legally emancipated, or released from parental authority, nor married to the teacher or administrator. Even if the student was 16 or older and emancipated, or if the student was 18, a teacher or administrator would still be fired unless he or she was married to the student. Despite the large risks to their liberties and careers, and the shame that came with the discovery of an illicit relationship, some teachers did it anyway.

When school let out the next day, Shun saw Melinda sitting on the bench, and after she said that her car was in the shop and that she was waiting for her boyfriend, they began chatting. The conversation turned to romance.

"So, my boyfriend and I were making out, and I got this hickey mark, so I had to get makeup to cover it," said Melinda.

"A hickey mark?" Shun asked.

"When you suck on somebody's skin while you are trying to make out with them. It leaves a little mark."

"Making out?"

"That's kissing," she replied. Melinda began talking about her romance with Shun, since she knew he wasn't interested in her in that way, and in any case she already had a boyfriend. To her, Shun seemed to be the type who would never, ever, ever tell anything she told him. Before they could go further, Melinda heard a loud roar of a V-8 engine.

"Ah, there he is! ❤❤" Melinda cried! A 1999 silver Dodge Ram, somewhat rusted but still behaving smoothly and looking quite menacing, pulled up the pick-up area. The driver lowered his window.

"Hey homegirl! How are ya doin'?" the Hispanic coyote-man behind the wheel cried. Melinda's boyfriend, with his shaved head, his large sunglasses hiding his eyes, and his strong arm and chest muscles, looked large and crude, almost like the beastmen in the _bara_ porn Shun looked at. The coyote-man had driven all the way from Southwest Detroit to see his girlfriend in the suburbs.

"Good! How 'bout you?" Melinda asked as she excitedly trotted over and opened the door.

"Nothin' much. You wanna kiss?" he asked as she hopped in. Then they did a deep kiss, passionately locking in each other's lips. His hands clutched her body as they kissed. It was love. And as Shun stared at the blissful young couple, he knew that he wanted that love. In Japan, kissing was considered even more of a private, sacred, intimate act than it was in America, so it was somewhat shocking for Shun. "Who's that?" Carlos asked, pointing to Shun.

"He's my friend, Shun. He's Japanese and he likes to play video games," she said.

"'Sup, homie?" Carlos greeted.

"Homie?" Shun asked.

"Oh, in cities in America people say it a lot, especially black people. 'Homeboy,' 'homegirl,' or 'homie'… they all mean a 'friend'," Melinda explained, "And ' 'sup' is just short for 'what's up.'" Shun learned in his English classes in Japan that "what's up" is the informal English language greeting used by young people.

"Ah, ok! It is nice meeting you!" Shun cried. But as Carlos's pickup truck drove off, inside he began to feel some jealousy... he wished he had the kind of love that his friend had.

Shun had gotten along with Kouya so well that Gaku agreed to take him to see him at the Detroit Library in the Friday after school; Kouya had no classes on Friday afternoons, so he was able to help Shun then. The next day, after Shun's Japanese school was over, Kouya and Shun were back in the same place in the South Wing, poring over the books together. Kouya had his motorcycle jacket on, obscuring his muscular chest. This time he had a small black luggage case in addition to his backpack.

"Your _Romeo and Juliet_ essay had some promise, but I'll tell you what American English teachers expect to see in essays. They want _directness_."

"They just want me to say it?" Shun asked.

"Yes. So the reason why the teacher brings that up is because your essay isn't direct enough. You need to state your points firmly."

"That makes sense, Kouya-_senpai_," Shun grinned.

"I'm your _senpai _now?" a puzzled Kouya asked. _Senpai_ was a term of respect used by younger students to older students at a Japanese school, reflecting the social hierarchy in Japanese society. But Shun went to a high school while Kouya went to a university…

"Well, I mean, you are tutoring me in my classes, and I help you organize your papers as you look over mine," Shun explained. The wolf-boy had reorganized Kouya's binder, arranging all of the handouts in his college classes in the proper order.

"You don't have any Japanese who are your seniors at your school who you talk to?"

"There are lots of Japanese at my school, but I don't talk with the eleventh grade and twelfth grade students much. I usually only see the Japanese upperclassmen in Japanese school on Saturday," Shun explained.

"Well, I guess someone has to be your _senpai_, even in America," Kouya chuckled.

"Freeze!" a faraway deep voice said, shattering the calm and quiet in the library. A man in a suit was being held by scary, burly men in sunglasses wearing blue polo shirts and navy slacks. More of the mysterious shaded men appeared, as if they came from an anthill of government agents that had been kicked by a five-year old. It raised a commotion among the startled library patrons.

"It's the FBI!" Kouya cried. Agents swarmed the halls like bees, demanding everyone to leave. Kouya grumbled as he and Shun gathered their belongings and stuffed them in their backpacks. They just left the library books behind, as many others did.

As he went down the steps of the main entrance with a crowd of confused library patrons, Kouya sighed, "The FBI is raiding the friggin' library. Probably some crook in the administration had a shady contract set up. Only in Detroit…"

Shun asked, "Where shall we go to do more studying?"

Kouya concluded, "I think we've done enough studying. What do you wanna do?"

Shun smiled as he thought for a moment as his stomach growled. "I'm feeling just a little bit hungry… I could go home to eat."

"I could take you somewhere that's really good."

"Really? You don't have to…" Shun started.

"Text your cousin and see if he's interested in coming along."

Shun cried, "Hafu! That's right, I've been separated from Gaku-san!" The wolf-boy fiddled with the Nokia phone for a moment, sending a text to Gaku.

"He says that the guys in his meeting are going to move to a restaurant to discuss things, and it's an expensive one in Downtown."

"So see if he is fine with you coming with me to a restaurant near here…" Kouya said, "it's okay if he isn't. Don't feel that you have to go with me!" Shun again fiddled with his phone. He had met Kouya on accident last Saturday… not a whole lot of time. Was Gaku okay with letting Kouya take him there?

After getting another text, Shun asked, "What is the name of the restaurant, and where is it?"

"El-Lin Restaurant. It's on Forest Avenue, just east of campus."

After another exchange of texts, Shun cried, "He said okay, have fun!" A wide smile appeared on his face.

"Cool! Have you worn a motorcycle helmet before?" Kouya asked Shun.

"A motorcycle helmet?" Shun asked, "you ride a motorcycle?"

"Yep, it's how I get to school from home. It's cheap. As for the helmets, I have two. I bought a second so one of my friend's brothers could ride with me, but it had never been used. But now you're here, and I brought it in my motorcycle helmet case, so why don't you come with me?" A motorcycle! Shun's mind was blasted by the thought of this sexy college husky dog-man with a motorcycle and silver hair.


	8. Chapter 5: The discovery, part 2

Kouya lead Shun to a parking meter on Farnsworth Street, where the motorcycle was securely chained. Kouya undid the chains. The dog-man then opened his black helmet case. His own helmet was stored inside, but so was a smaller helmet.

"I'll help you put on your helmet," Kouya offered as he fitted it on Shun's head. The helmet felt tight, and Shun's hair and head felt restricted. But the tinted glass on the visor made it cool! The suffocation was worth it.

"Hop on and grab my waist. Hold on tight," Kouya instructed as he sat on the motorcycle. The little Shun sat behind Kouya and hugged his waist. "Let's go!" Kouya cried as he cranked the handle, and the motorcycle sped off. At first Shun felt afraid, afraid of the rushing wind and the sudden movement, and held on to his dear life, stifling his screams. But then he realized his grip on Kouya's body was stronger than he thought. As Kouya drove down the streets, past the gigantic American cars with their bumper stickers and horrible gas mileage, Shun secured himself against his bedrock, his tutor, and his crush. The fact that he was holding on to Kouya made him feel a bit funny inside too.

Kouya's motorcycle headed east on Warren Avenue, going under the Chrysler Freeway. As Shun held on to Kouya, his surroundings were at first normal, a few gas stations, and the Federal Reserve building that was to his right. But then a hulking red brick factory complex was to his left. Razor wire surrounded the fences, and the "For Lease" sign next to the incomplete "Foods, Inc" suggested that Shun wasn't in Kansas… er… the university area anymore. The motorcycle veered right onto DeQuindre Street, and Shun saw empty fields and a rusty, abandoned shed. The grass in the medians was patchy and hadn't been watered enough. and then took a left turn onto Forest Avenue. But just after the turn they saw a white cube-shaped building to their left.

El-Lin Restaurant was named after the founders, Elda and Lindon. Lindon had died a long time ago, though, so his widow, Elda now runs the place and her brother Patrick cooks the food. One of Kouya's bandmates told him that this restaurant's food was to die for. After a single bite, Kouya knew that he was not kidding. The building itself was in the shape of a white cube, but subdivided into many cubes, so it was a Rubik's cube that had been stripped of its dazzling colors.

Kouya moved the bike to the side of the restaurant building and told Shun to get off. Shun pulled off his motorcycle helmet and gave it to Kouya, who stuffed it in his duffel bag. The dog-man took his own helmet off and also stuffed it inside. Kouya got off the motorbike, tied a chain around a pipe and the motorcycle, and then pulled a green tarp and covered the motorcycle.

"What are you doing?" Shun asked.

In a soft whisper, Kouya answered, "Disguising my motorcycle. I don't want people to steal it, so I hide it like this. It's not a guarantee, but it hasn't been stolen yet. Even if it was, I have my name and state ID number carved into all of the major parts, and I have a device in there to text me in case it gets stolen." Shun smiled upon realizing how careful and thorough Kouya was.

"You said this is a soul food restaurant. What is soul food?" Shun asked as Kouya lead him inside.

"It's a cooking style that is common among black people in America. Many black people lived in the southeastern part of the country and they took their cuisine with them when they settled northern cities in the twentieth century. Detroit got a lot of black migrants from the south, and now it is a mostly black city, so you see lots of soul food joints here. It's very filling, but I think you'll like it!"

The wood paneling on the walls made it feel like one was in an American grandmother's house with priceless antiques and old perfume. But instead the smells were of savory American foods. The diner itself had a single formica counter row, with little stools in front so the patrons could sit there. The overhead display had handwritten menus and some photographs of the family members. Underneath the display was a drink machine and the steely kitchen, as well as a cash register. A fifty-something black woman wearing a white T-shirt and pink capri pants was wiping the table. Her black, curly hair was cut short, and her glasses and wrinkles made her look somewhere between a mother and a grandmother.

As Kouya and Shun entered, the dog-man greeted, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Elda. How are you doing?". Aside from a middle-aged black man on the far left of the counter, they were the only customers inside.

"I'm doing fine myself, Mr. Kouya." Some black people, especially those in the southern United States or who have origins in the south, call people or are called Mister or Miss first name. "Who is this young man with you?" she asked.

"My name is Shun."

"Where do you come from, sir?" Elda asked.

"I come from Japan!" Shun beamed in his accented English.

"Are you just visiting?" Elda asked in her sweet voice.

"No, I am now living here. I am in Novi with my father," Shun answered.

"Well I hope you like it honey! What can I get you?" Elda asked.

"What do you like to eat here, Kouya-san?" Shun asked in Japanese.

"Many things, the pork chops, the oxtails, the candied yams, the mashed potatoes. If you want something interesting, try the oxtails," Kouya said in Japanese.

"I would like one plate of oxtails, please," Shun said in English.

"What sides would you like, honey? You can get two," Elda asked.

"Macaroni and cheese and candied yams," answered Shun.

"And what drink?"

"Coke!" beamed Shun.

"We don't have that," Elda answered, "and we have no pop whatsoever." From his classmates Shun had learned that in the Midwest people call soda "pop."

"Why?" Shun asked.

"The pop supplier in the area, he and I got into an argument. He has a beef, so he doesn't give us pop no more."

"A beef? He has a cow?" Shun asked.

In Japanese Kouya said, "It's a saying, Shun. 'Beef' means a grudge. Why don't you get Kool-Aid? They have cherry, grape, orange, and lime."

"A cherry Kool-Aid, please!" Shun said in English.

For a few minutes, as Mrs. Elda prepared the food, Kouya and Shun sat at the booth. Kouya had ordered a pork chop plate with collared greens and mashed potatoes, and he opted for a grape Kool-Aid. The Kool-Aids had been passed out in Styrofoam cups, but the food needed some time.

"It's kinda hot in here," Kouya remarked as he zipped off his motorcycle jacket and stuffed it into his backpack, which had been placed below the stool. Shun saw those well built pecs, and it caused his cheeks to redden a bit.

"Do you like to play video games, Kouya-san?" Shun asked.

"A bit. I used to play Xbox at my friend Dante's place. He's now busy with his girlfriend, so I don't play that much."

"I love playing video games," Shun said before taking a sip of the Kool-Aid. It was the understatement of the year, but Kouya smiled.

"What kinds?" Kouya asked. The cherry Kool-Aid didn't taste like a soda pop… it was sweet, and kinda fakey. It was different, but Shun decided he preferred other drinks. He was glad he tried it, though.

"Many! I have some consoles at home, and I carry a Nintendo 3DS, a PSP, and a Game Boy Advance." And unlike the first several occasions, this day, Gaku did not tell Shun to not pack his games, so he had them in his backpack.

"You're well equipped!" remarked Kouya.

"My cousin Gaku-san gets me my games."

"Speaking about him, does he _like_ me?" Kouya asked. He recalled seeing Gaku's scowl every time he saw him. The wolf-man always says little, and never seems very enthusiastic.

"He likes you a lot, Kouya-san!" Shun beamed. Out of politeness, Kouya decided not to challenge him, and changed the subject.

"Shun-kun, how old are you?" Kouya asked.

"I'm sixteen." Sixteen… Kouya thought about his friend Dante's sister, who was sixteen when, last year, she was shot and killed on the way to her westside Detroit high school by some twenty-something thugs who tried to rape her. Kouya never had the chance to meet her. He thought about the two boys who fatally shot the cook in a robbery attempt in a black Muslim bean pie restaurant in the eastside of Detroit last summer (the food there was delicious, and that was a shame since the restaurant closed); they were both sixteen also. There was the teenage mother in his apartment complex with the one year old baby, the teenage mother who struggled to pay the bills and had been disowned by her parents and who doesn't even know who the daddy is and relied on welfare that didn't cover everything. She was also sixteen. There was the dope dealer on the top floor of Kouya's brownstone who hardly went to school and made more money per week than his own high school teachers did. He was sixteen.

And this Japanese wolf-boy who needed some help with his schoolwork, who enjoyed playing video games and eating delicious new foods he had never tried before and seemed oblivious to the cruelty and ugliness in the world and enjoyed traveling to new countries and learning new languages and making new foreign friends… was sixteen. His innocence and naivety was sweet, refreshing, touching. And Kouya realized that he cherished little Shun-kun and he wanted to see him stay in his bubble, untainted and uncorrupted by the ugliness surging in Detroit.

"That's cool. I'm nineteen," Kouya said, leaving a lot of his thoughts unsaid.

"You look older, Kouya-san."

"Thanks! I'm just nineteen. I had credits from high school, so I am a second year college student, a sophomore by standing even though I just started last summer. And you're a second year high school student, even though high school begins one year later in Japan."

"Have you traveled anywhere before you came to America?" Shun asked. Kouya reached his hand into his pocket, and he presented a blue passport with the chrysanthemum logo. Inside… it said "Aotsuki, Kohya" (he preferred spelling his name with a "u" in English, but in the passport it has an "h" instead) and it had his date of birth, and "蒼月 洸哉", his signature in kanji. He was nineteen indeed. Then he flipped to the stamps part. Germany, France, Brazil, and several U.S. stamps, along with various Japanese stamps all over. The last few pages were a mishmash of U.S. and Canadian stamps. "Hafu!" Shun cried upon seeing the many stamps.

"I traveled a lot when I was in high school," Kouya explained.

"I got my passport just before I came here. I have never been outside Japan until now," Shun said as he pulled out his own blue chrysanthemum passport. Shun's fresh passport had two stamps, his exit stamp from Narita and his U.S. entry stamp. Kouya noticed that his birthdate was the Fourth of July, giving him a soft chuckle.

"Mr. Kouya, your food is ready!" Elda called as she handed over the plates. The two put their passports back in their pockets as Elda then handed them the silverware. Shun Kodori could feel the steam from the piping hot plate of oxtails and mac and cheese and candied yams.

Soul food warmed the stomach and throat, and as Kouya said, it tasted rich. Each oxtail had a big bone around, but the beef was succulent. The mac and cheese wasn't out of a box. It was made fresh, and the cheese sauce was very savory. The yams had a sweet taste, complementing the other savory flavors.

"Good, huh?" Kouya smiled.

After eating much of his plate, Shun cried, "It's really good, Kouya-san! Thank you!"

Kouya blushed as he said, "Hey, no worries." Then he asked, "Want to try some of mine?" Kouya's plate still had some pork chops, mashed potatoes, and collared greens.

"Well, thank you for the offer, but I don't want to take away from your plate."

"Shun-kun, we're here to try things. Please have some of mine," Kouya insisted.

"Alright, but please have some of mine in exchange," Shun said. The pork chops were juicy and had a nice seasoning. The collared greens had a meaty flavor, as bacon was used to season them. The mashed potatoes were fluffy and creamy. In exchange, Kouya had some of Shun's food. He liked both sets, but thought that overall Shun had the better dish. Despite soul food being known for being rich, they were able to finish their plates. But their bellies felt like dumbbells, and the full stomachs made them feel a teensy bit drowsy.

"Did you enjoy the food?" Kouya asked after a hearty burp.

"It was delicious, Kouya-san! I'd like to try more kinds of American food!"

"And not just McDonald's, eh?" he laughed.

Shun burped also, and Mrs. Elda smiled, happy that her customers were satisfied. After a moment… "You said you like video games. What games do you have on you now?" Kouya asked.

"Well, I have my Game Boy Advance on me," Shun answered. Unlike the last few times, Shun had packed one of his portable gaming consoles. "So, on me I have old _Tetris_, _Game Boy Wars Advance_ (_Advance Wars_), _Super Mario World_, and _Super Mario Land_, but my others are at home."

"Wow, I loved playing _Super Mario Land_ when I was younger," Kouya said.

"Why don't you play?" Shun asked him. Kouya froze in surprise. Shun's letting him play his games. The teenage wolf-boy reached into his backpack and pulled out the Game Boy Advance pack. He unzipped out a purple Game Boy Advance and a single square cartridge, an old Game Boy game. The dog-man could tell that the cartridge came from Japan. The wolf-boy inserted the cartridge into the Game Boy and handed it to Kouya.

As the chiptune music from long ago chimed, Kouya smiled and softly hummed the tune as he manipulated Mario, jumping on the Bombshell Koopa enemies that turned into bombs. Longtime childhood memories were back, and Kouya's heart sang. While Shun had a physical attraction to well-built men older than him, Kouya had something the intimidating, mega-sized male seniors at Lakeside High didn't have-a calmness, a sense of ease, a brother-like friendliness, a sense of openness. Maybe this was the love Shun wanted when he would have sex someday… At the restaurant, Shun Kodori realized that he was falling in love with Kouya Aotsuki. He was in love. L-O-V-E. He now understood for certain that he was gay.

Kouya had gotten almost to the first boss, when Shun's phone vibrated.

"A text!" Shun cried. "Gaku-san said he's coming to the restaurant to pick me up!" Kouya frowned, partly because it meant he had to quit the game. But also… he had to leave Shun. Soon the scowling wolf-man cousin in his polo and khakis had entered, telling Shun that it was time to go. Kouya turned off the Game Boy Advance and handed it back to Shun, who put it in his backpack.

"Hello, sir! Is he your brother?" Mrs. Elda asked.

"He's my cousin," Gaku said in English.

"Well Shoon's just adorable, and he's getting along fine with Mr. Kouya, you know," Elda said.

"You know that guy?" Gaku asked.

"Mr. Kouya stops by once in awhile, and he talks about things. Business has been getting slower," Mrs. Elda sighed, "and King Kwame left us without street lights, so we now close early too." She was talking about former Detroit mayor Kwame Kilpatrick, well known for siphoning the municipal coffers.

"Did they enjoy the food here?" Gaku asked.

"Absolutely!" she said, "both were having a wonderful time!" Gaku smiled, before telling Shun he needed to go in Japanese. Shun waved goodbye to Kouya as the dog-man said goodbye back, in Japanese.

As Shun walked out of the restaurant with his cousin, Kouya realized something inside. He was… attracted to Shun! How can this be? Everyone else Kouya dated was at least muscular, fairly tart in personality, and around his age at the time. Kouya had slept with maybe two other guys before in his life, once while in high school in America, and once in Japan between high school and college. Kouya broke up with both of them for different reasons. But now he was _attracted _to a 16-year old high school kid! A sweet high school kid who wasn't like the others that he encountered and read about on the news in Detroit. Could this be? That his admiration of Shun's sweet nature had turned sexual? Kouya shook his head to try to rid himself of the thought. But he couldn't… Kouya Aotsuki's cheeks reddened.

The wolf-man and wolf-boy were now inside a cherry red sedan. "You had fun with Aotsuki-san?" Gaku-san asked in Japanese. As he started the engine of his Nissan Altima, the vehicle's computer chimed and the meters on the dash went live.

"Yep!" Shun beamed, also speaking Japanese.

"Shun, I didn't realize that this was in such a bad area," Gaku started, "but it isn't that far from the college, as he said." Shun noticed that the buildings to the east of the restaurant were sprayed with black graffiti… he could make out a "Bloodz" but he didn't know what that meant. But as Gaku was about to make a right turn from the parking lot, he stopped. "Whoa, it's one way," Gaku realized upon seeing the one way arrow, so he took a left and headed down Forest Avenue eastbound to make a turn down a side street and then go on a main road that would take them westward so they could get on a freeway to go back to Novi.

As they went down a side street… "Gaku-san! Where are all the houses?" Shun cried. From the side street, Shun could see that the block had maybe one or two houses that looked like a boxer had given them a black eye, but the rest was overgrown weeds, as if houses had never been built there.

"They burned down or were bulldozed," he said in his trademark flat voice… deadpan. Shun gasped, not realizing the severity of pain and anguish in the city. He thought of his friend Tim, whose father's house had been destroyed. The Japanese put a lot of importance in the concept of "home" and so he was disturbed by how Tim's father's family was forced to flee their house due to rising crime. He imagined what it was like if his hometown in Japan, Minasato, had decayed. He shivered at the thought of his old house being demolished because it had been too badly damaged or because nobody wanted it anymore.


	9. Chapter 6: The news

That Sunday, Shun worked on his project at his house, using the guidance and advice Kouya gave him. It was a Powerpoint presentation and it was going pretty well! His bibliography was well-stocked, and Kouya had used his Detroit Public Library account to get Shun copies of extra articles. Fall colors were coming to the Detroit area. As daylight came up on that Monday morning, the trees were turning from bright green to brittle reds, oranges, and yellows. Leaves fell over the expansive front yards, and the air began to feel a bit chillier than it usually did. Shun had closed the door to his house and locked it with a key that he keeps in his pocket. He waited just a minute or two, while he played his 3DS. As he played _Kirby_, the wolf-boy heard the distinct sound of a running diesel engine. A large safety yellow-color Ford school bus with the words in black "LAKESIDE SCHOOL DISTRICT" on the side pulled up across from the Kodori house and opened its gigantic doors. Mechanical arms revealed "STOP" signs to signal drivers to stop while the bus loaded its passenger.

School-operated buses do not exist in Japan, but in America Shun learned about the big yellow diesel engines which shuttle students from home to school and back, a staple of American suburbs and rural areas and even in some big cities that are not crammed in tightly... like Detroit itself. Many students don't live close enough to their schools to walk there, and many places, such as Novi, do not have citywide public transportation. Americans therefore rely on school buses for the transportation of their children to school, especially if the parent and/or student has no car or cannot use a car.

As usual, Shun boarded the bus and said "hi" to the driver, a weathered fifty-something man wearing the district's bus driver uniform. The American school bus had rows of vinyl seats crammed with twenty-something high school students, mainly students too young to get drivers' licenses and who don't have cars, so it was overwhelmingly made up of freshmen with some sophomores and very few juniors and seniors. Shun picked an empty seat and looked out the window as the bus as it pulled away from the driveway and headed towards Ten Mile Road.

Shun resumed his _Kirby_ game. But when he overheard a strange conversation behind him, he paused his game.

A ninth grade boy behind him asked, "Do you know if Alan Smith has a girlfriend?"

A second boy, who sat in the same seat as the first boy said, "Jimmy, he's a homo." Shun didn't know what the English word "homo" meant.

"A homo? He's gay, Jeff?" said Jimmy. Shun _did_ know what the word "gay" meant.

Jeff said, "Yeah. Alan likes cocks. He likes peenis! He's probably jacking off to serious cock as we speak!" From Tim's friends he learned what the word "cock" meant in that context.

"We better stay away from him or we'll get his homo germs. Hahahaa!" The conversation of the immature ninth grade boys, fresh from middle school, sent shivers down Shun's spine. Over the weekend he was infatuated with Kouya, but now he was beginning to question whether it was healthy for him to have this infatuation.

The school day went normally, and he excitedly told Tim and Melinda about Kouya Aotsuki, the college guy who is tutoring him in English and American history. Shun told them that Kouya was Japanese but studied in the United States for middle and high school, and so he understood where Shun was coming from and was in a was in a perfect position to tutor him. He didn't tell them that he was falling in love with the dog-man or that he dreamed about him at night, or that thinking about Kouya gave him strange feelings that he was coming to terms with. That afternoon Gaku picked up Shun, and Gaku told Shun that he heard this nice new line of cookware from Viking was on a sale at a Meijer superstore in Livonia. As Gaku parked at the massive lot, Shun could see an army of angry protestors near the store's entrance, holding a vary of vivid white and yellow signs with black Impact font lettering. The signs read: "Fags are acting against the will of God!" and "the wages of sin are death!" Shun didn't know what a "fag" was, but the words sounded scary.

"Pff, a bunch of protestors from out of town," Gaku sighed as he put the car in park and turned off the engine. He recognized from the city name on the van of the protestors, parked next to the Altima, that the "Church" they were from was in some rural town far away from Detroit. "I have no clue why they are here," Gaku continued, "this isn't Downtown Detroit. I have never, _ever_ seen those people at this place." The two wolf-folk got out of the car, and Shun's ears picked up the loud decibels of the protest, bleeding into the air. The two headed for the store entrance, but one of the protestors, a woman with her hair done in a bun, wearing blue jeans and a white blouse, approached Shun. "Shun, don't talk to them!" Gaku cried in Japanese but it was too late, for the wolf-boy became a captive audience.

The woman told Shun with fire in her voice and an angry scowl, "Sir, you need to spread the word. Homosexuals are committing a sin! Fags are going against God's will when they lie in bed, and they will die and lie in hell!" she cried. Shun wasn't a Christian, but the intensity of the woman's voice frightened him immensely. Then in a much softer tone, while holding a small green book, she offered "Please, have a Bible!" But Shun, so frightened, slowly backed away and headed into the superstore, not taking the Bible. That night he shivered in the covers, wondering what would happen if he told everyone around him that he was falling in love with a man. Those protestors became more and more vivid and ferocious in his mind. Would they come to his house? His school? And what would his father, mother, cousin, or Iwao-sama think if they learned he had those feelings? What about his friends? What about Kouya?

The next day, after lunch, Shun was walking towards his next class. After having visited his locker, he headed towards one of the stairwells when, near one of the water fountains, he spied a crowd of large boys gathered around. The other students walked by, seemingly ignoring the scene. Did something happen? As he got closer, he heard the protests of a freshman, telling them to stop and to let him go. He didn't recognize the taller, older-looking boys surrounding the freshman, who was a bit rotund, but was also fairly small, though not as small as Shun. One of the boys had his phone out, recording the scene.

"Well, you're a fag, so you were leering at me, weren't you?" one of the boys yelled.

"I don't find you attractive! I wasn't staring at you!"

"You're lying, Alan! You were staring at me!" the first boy cried.

"I don't like you at all!" Alan protested.

"All queers say that, don't they? They just wanna fuck anyone that moves," another of the boys laughed.

The first boy yelled, "Get this, you faggot! You need to hang yourself! I don't want to see your face again, you piece of shit!" From context, Shun realized what "fag" or "faggot" meant. "Faggot" was the most offensive English term for a homosexual, and the word echoes pain and misery when homosexuals were persecuted under the law. While some youth and internet users had repurposed the word to refer to annoying or obnoxious people without regards to their sexual orientation, the word was being used in a different manner in this conversation. The whole thing made Shun feel rotten inside, and he began to despise a certain aspect of himself.

But self-loathing turned to despair, as Shun could see the pain etched on Alan's face! He needed to help this boy! He wanted to speak up, confront them directly, and tell them to stop, but the bullies were so big, so menacing, that he feared being injured. And he could hear those boys easily say the same hurtful things to him too! And Shun would react in the same way! The wolf-boy looked down the hall, towards his own locker, and he could see Mr. Simmons, his American history teacher, chat with a middle-aged woman, about 5'7, with green eyes and freely-flowing platinum blonde hair that went down her back and down her shoulders. Her light wrinkles, black formal skirt and high heels, diamond earrings, thin glasses, and white and blue pinstripe short-sleeved blouse gave her a CEO-ish vibe. As more and more students walked into Mr. Simmons's classroom, Shun approached the pair, and he could see the woman laugh, with her hand and fingers, with the fingernails painted purple, covering her mouth. They were well-engrossed in the conversation, but Shun needed to act fast. Shun knew what to do when teachers and staff were talking to each other.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Williamson," Shun interrupted politely. It was Erika Williamson, the principal of Lakeside High School. In Japan one would call a principal "Principal" or "Principal Last Name." But in the U.S., as with teachers, a principal was addressed as a Mr., Ms., or Mrs.

"Is something the matter? I'm really busy speaking to Mr. Simmons," she answered in a sharp tone, somewhat annoyed that her exciting conversation had been cut short.

"There is a scary argument going on. These boys are making somebody cry…" Shun answered. The wolf-boy's face looked anguished, and he was close to crying himself.

"There is an argument?" Mrs. Williamson asked, looking puzzled.

"Erika," Mr. Simmons said as he noticed something, "Shun's seeing _that_ over there," referring to the looming crowd. While teachers and staff had students call them by their last names, and referred to each other in front of students by their last names, they addressed each other by their first names.

"HEY!" Mrs. Williamson screamed, upon noticing the menacing crowd, which had started to attack Alan. Shun could see the principal running over there, screaming at the boys, and when they considered running away, a janitor, and then another teacher gathered around, blocking off the offending group. All of the boys who had intimidated and attacked Alan had nowhere to go, and were bound for the principal's office. It was their misfortune that she happened to be there; they didn't know that she was even around the area.

"Thank you, Shun," Mr. Simmons said, "Now you need to go to class." Shun nodded and walked away, but he couldn't help but think of that mob that had attacked the freshman, how they were as angry as that crowd at the Meijer was.

As the school day ended, Shun and Melinda again sat on the bench. It was just them. Gaku texted Shun to say he was coming late. Melinda's father was coming to pick her up, since her car battery suddenly died, but he was late also. At first Shun told her about the incident after lunch, and she shifted her eyes to the side in anxiety, but later the conversation shifted to romance, and her face began to reflect relief, as if she had stopped carrying a heavy burden…

"So Carlos is an artist too?" Shun asked.

"Yeah, he became known at my old school for the sketches he did of his teachers. They didn't like it that he was mocking them, but he was really good at caricature."

"What is a caricature?" Shun asked.

"Making a very exaggerated picture of someone," she answered. "And I asked him to sketch me once. I liked what he did… he made me look cute," she sighed, with a bit of blush on her cheeks. "So… I started hanging out with him," she finished.

"So, you said that yesterday you watched a movie with him when he was at your apartment. What movie was it?" Shun asked.

"Well, there was no movie," Melinda sighed.

"Then what did you do?" Shun asked.

"Shun, we had sex!" Melinda said. Very softly she said, "Often when people have sex, they say they watched a movie when they didn't."

"Oh," Shun gasped. "So… do you… mind if I… ask something?"

"Ask away!" Melinda smiled.

Shun blushed and discomfort grew on his face as he asked "What is… _it_ like, Melinda?"

"It?" a puzzled Melinda asked. Then a moment later she said, "Oh… sex." In a soft voice, she explained "Well, it feels really strange for the first time. It's embarrassing. But after the second time… it's great. You feel like you are truly connected with somebody." She wouldn't normally talk about sex with a boy, but she could sense from Shun's reaction to Melinda's admission that the wolf-boy seemed different somehow... she understood that he wasn't threatening or judgmental about it. "When I had sex with Carlos… I got_ hooked_ on him. I just wanted to have fun, but when I had sex, it was like... I was _glued_ to him. That happens to people. I had a friend who had thoughts about leaving her boyfriend, but she had sex with him, and she feels kind of stuck to him." Shun learned then and there that sex was a powerful force, not to be trifled with, not to be taken trivially. "Carlos… He's kind of stupid, but I love him." Then, she thought for a moment… "Do you have a crush on somebody?" the fox-girl asked.

"A crush?" he asked.

"That's when you like someone a little bit… like you want to be someone's boyfriend."

"Well, Melinda …. I do," Shun said as his face developed a soft blush.

"Ooh, so you have a girl you like?" she asked, with a wide grin on her face showing all of her teeth.

"N-no." The startled Melinda pursed her lips. "Melinda, I … I like… I like a boy!" he cried as he blushed harder.

"You're _gay_?" she cried, shocked. She hadn't even considered the idea of Shun being gay.

"I… is something wrong with me?" he cried. Melinda's heart sank. "I hear… I hear from people that I am not supposed to like other boys this way… that there is something wrong with me… and there are angry people who say I am going to burn in hell if I… go to bed with a boy…" The bullies who attacked Alan, the Christian protestors at the Meijer, and the freshmen on the bus were wounding him. "I…" Shun started, but he broke down crying, his heart weighted by the horrible experiences he had in the past two days.

"Melinda, I just feel so bad inside," Shun sobbed, "but I want to be with another boy. I want… to love a boy like you love a boy… but I am scared that if I say I like boys, then everyone will hate me."

"A boy can love another boy, and they can have a happy relationship. There are many people who are fine with that. Things are changing in this country; people are understanding that it's normal. In some states, they can even marry."

"Really?" Shun asked, after a sniffle.

"Yes. Michigan isn't one of them yet, but there are some American states that allow two people of the same sex to marry. Shun, some guys like other guys, and some girls like other girls. And some like both guys and girls. I know it's a shock, but it's a normal feeling, and don't let anyone make you feel ashamed of it, okay?" she reassured. After a moment… "So who is it that you like?" Melinda asked, with excitement in her voice, meant to raise his spirits. "Does he go here?"

"No, he is that college student at Wayne State I told you about at lunch."

"Oh… Shun, he_ might_ be too old for you." Shun told her earlier that the college boy was nineteen. Shun frowned, so she said, "But maybe not..." to make him feel better, even though she didn't think Shun had much of a chance with a university student. There were nineteen year olds out there who were still going to high school, and the age of consent in Michigan, under normal circumstances, was sixteen. Melinda understood that a college student was in a different stage of his life than a high school student who lives at home with his father, so she feared that the college student wouldn't be interested.

"Well, he likes hanging out with me. It doesn't seem like he's too old to hang out with me. I don't know if he is gay or not… if he is not gay, I still want him as a friend."

"Well, we'll see…" she said, thinking that he would someday get over that crush and find someone else.

"But if I tell everyone that I like boys, does it mean… that the same things will happen to me that happened to Alan? Will those angry people I saw at the store protest at my house?" Shun asked, with his blue eyes wobbling with the fear instilled by the bullies and the Christian fundamentalists.

"People aren't going to protest at your house. But there are people who will judge you wrongly when you tell them that you like guys. They may yell at you, curse at you, or hate you. But if you tell people that that you are gay, I think you'll feel better about yourself. You'll be true to yourself, and I _assure_ that most people at this school will be cool with it. If two guys love each other and they consent, there's nothing wrong with that, so people should not be angry at your for wanting that. And I think your friends and your family will understand and accept you for who you are."

"Really?" Shun asked.

"Yes, and I think it will be better if you just tell people. And let's say that college guy you like is gay. How is he going to know that you like him? What happens if you have a relationship with him, but people don't know you like guys? And someone will find out somehow. Then what? It's better to tell everyone now, so then nobody will be surprised when they find out you are dating a guy." That explanation made sense to Shun. Suddenly Shun heard the roar of a V-6 engine. "Your ride's here," Melinda said.

After he entered the car, as it drove off, Shun could see the solemn look on Melinda's face. She tried her best to make him happy, but he knew that she was fearful of what could happen next.

"How are you?" Gaku asked.

"I'm okay, Gaku-san."

"You look a little sad. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Shun said, trying to stop Gaku from worrying about him. At first the drive was marked with silence. Shun didn't want to tell his dear cousin right away, so he used a question to test him. "Gaku-san, what happens if a boy likes another boy? Is it normal?"

"It means he's gay, Shun. He just likes other guys, that's all," he said nonchalantly.

"What if _I'm _gay?" Shun asked.

"Shun-kun… are you gay?"

"I think so," Shun replied.

"Well, I guess that's a bit different," Gaku said, "How did you find that out?"

"In the locker room I felt funny when I saw this guy change. But when I see pictures of girls, I don't feel funny. And I have a crush on a guy."

"Okay, so I guess you are gay," Gaku said. After an awkward silence, he asked, "So, do you wanna stop in Kroger? We could try their sushi and see if it's better than what's at One World Market." Phew! Shun smiled upon recognizing his cousin's seeming acceptance.

After the stop at the grocery store, Shun and Gaku got back home. Shortly afterwards, Shun's father arrived.

"I'm home early," Ryo Kodori announced as he went through the front door. As Shun played _Mario 64 DS_ on his 3DS at the kitchen table, Ryo asked "So, you may have heard of the Japan Festival being held this weekend, right, Shun?"

"I heard of it," Shun said.

"Well, today I spoke with Director Hanamura, the director of the Japanese School. She said she was looking for someone to be the _miko_ in the _Obon_ ceremony demonstration at the Japan Festival. I think it will make your grandfather proud. Do you want to do it?" In Japan, Shun was the _miko_ in the _Obon_ festival held in Minasato. Gaku was the miko until he got the job in Detroit. Even though Gaku tried to go back to Japan around _Obon_ so he count continue the role, he was so jet lagged that he couldn't do it, so Shun took his place. And then from then on, Shun was the _miko_. Even though Shun was also in Detroit, because he only had school, Iwao still designated him as the miko for the Kodori family _obon_ ceremony back in Japan, even though Shun was gone for the other ceremonies.

"So will I practice?"

"They will hold a practice session on Saturday, after your classes are over. Then you'll do it on Sunday. Invite your American friends over, Shun. You'll practice in your street clothes, but you'll wear the kimono on Sunday." Shun's father had brought a special kimono in his checked luggage on the flight from Narita to Detroit.

"I'd like to do it, Dad," He didn't just want to curry favor from Iwao-sama. He liked being a _miko_. Maybe it would take his mind off of the horrible stuff? At the time, he contemplated telling his father the revelation about himself, but Shun didn't feel ready...

In his first period class the following morning, Shun sat down at his desk with the other students. After the bell rang, the teacher took roll. Then the morning announcements started with a "ding" on the PA system.

"Good morning, Lakeside students! I am Chelsea Barron." She was the girl who was doing the announcements every morning. "Please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance." And the Pledge of Allegiance came on, and Shun had his hand over his heart, as usual. "Now, please be seated," Chelsea said over the intercom. Then, a moment of silent passed. Students were quietly talking with one another, causing a light hubbub, expecting the usual announcements, courtesy of Chelsea.

"I am Mrs. Williamson," said the principal sharply over the intercom, without any sense of cheer in her voice. A hush overcame the classroom, for it was _not _business as usual. "Yesterday a disturbing incident happened where a group of students attacked a fellow student, presumably over his sexual orientation. Each student has a right to have an education without fear, regardless of his or her sexual orientation, and we are _appalled_ that some students violated this young man's right to an education. I remind all of you that you must treat your fellow students with dignity and respect, no matter what sexual orientation or gender identity they have." Mrs. Williamson had kept herself to date in happenings in other American public schools, and she knew off the top of her head several suicides of gay students who had been bullied, and as a result soul-searching and lawsuits resulted. She did not want this heartache and chaos to come to her school. But moreso, she felt a duty to protect her students. By doing this pre-emptively, possible bullies would be intimidated, preventing any further incidents.

Mrs. Williamson's announcement gave Shun a ray of hope, that he would be protected by the school in case his coming out went sour, in case a group of bullies wanted to harm him for who he felt attracted to.

Homeroom became first period, and with the other new students, Melinda and Tim entered.

"Are you feeling better, Shun?" Melinda asked.

With a smile, he said "Yes, I'm feeling better!"

"I'm glad to hear that! I was kinda worried about you back there," she said.

"What happened?" Tim asked.

"He felt kind of sick after school," Melinda answered.

"Sick?"

"He had a headache," she answered. It was up to Shun to come out to everyone else, not her. But Tim scratched his head, for she seemed overly worried over a little headache.


	10. Chapter 6: The news, part 2

At lunch, as usual, Shun, Melinda, and Tim gathered at a table and got out their lunches, and the conversation went full throttle, with Melinda discussing how Panera Bread has some great food and Tim agreeing. But Shun was a bit quieter than usual; he was wondering when he should tell Tim and his other friends, and where. Both Melinda and Tim noticed that Shun wasn't talking that much; Tim wondered why, but Melinda knew why but said nothing.

Suddenly a deep male voice cried, "Dude, I got good news! I got a copy of that new _Tomb Raider_ game!" It was Jacob Wang, with excitement lighting up his eyes. He was holding a brown bag with his lunch.

"Whoa!" Tim cried, "and is it good?"

Ken approached the group and said, "I played it at Jacob's house. It's fucking awesome!" He had a tray from the cafeteria. Phil had followed Ken in; he Jacob, and Ken had been in the group. Then Mina and Chelsea approached. Everybody had trays, bags, or lunchboxes, and as they opened, the conversation flowed freely.

Mina said, "Aren't we going to have another party at your house, Tim?"

"I guess," Tim answered.

Chelsea said, "That was actually fun, the first time, and then last weekend he got us to play video games. And maybe Shun can come, right?" Turning to Shun, she said "I heard you are really good!"

"My dad said I could come when I'm done my project," Shun answered. Shun was at the library and the restaurant, and doing studying and work on his project, so he did not attend Tim's party last weekend. But he also felt uneasy about going to another party, as he wondered what would happen if he came out.

"Well, get that project done so you can come back. I've been missing you," Tim said with a pained smile.

Mina said, "Yeah, Jacob said you're good! I'd like to see what you can do!"

"So we're all going, right?" Ken asked.

"As long as it's not a bunch of guys looking at porn," giggled Melinda.

"Very funny," sighed Tim before he took a bite of his peanut butter sandwich.

Turning to Shun, Jacob asked, "Hey, Shun, aren't you going to download that Lara Croft porn that people on the internet are inevitably going to put out?"

"No…" Shun answered.

"But she's freaking hot!" Jacob cried, with his hands wide open, an expression of his shock.

"But I'm gay!" protested Shun. He then covered his mouth with his little hands. Oops. Tim dropped his sandwich, covered with tooth-marks right before he could take another bite. Ken dropped the spoon that had some chicken noodle soup on it, causing a bit to spill. Mina dropped the carrot with ranch sauce she was holding.

"Really?" Tim cried as the rest of the group went silent and focused its attention on Shun. Shun's face lost all of its color as all. Was it a joke? Shun decided that there was no use denying it now.

"Yes… I am gay," Shun answered after placing his hands on the table, in a tone that made it clear that it was no joke. A short silence overcame the table, and Shun's body froze, fearing what his classmates would say. The boys looked at each other in disbelief before returning their gaze to Shun.

"You're gay?" Chelsea asked.

"Shun's gay!" Jacob cried.

"Huh, no wonder you didn't seem to respond to Sora Aoi," remarked Ken.

"I bet you that was a watershed moment, Ken. Maybe he found out he was gay the moment he didn't get a boner," said Phil.

"Phil, that's gross!" cried Mina, who looked like she sucked on a lemon.

"I'm glad for you!" Chelsea said, "Did the principal's message help you with that?"

"Yes, it did," Shun said, with a small smile appearing on his face. The other teenagers began eating as normal, or cleaned up the messes that had been made by the moment of surprise.

"Seriously, I think we should celebrate or something," Jacob offered.

"Why don't we celebrate in that party Tim's going to throw?" Mina asked. Shun's smile grew and he sighed in relief. While everyone else's attention was on Shun, Tim was studying Melinda's face, looking for something that wasn't here.

"Melinda, you don't look terribly surprised…" Tim said. Her lips began to form a smile, and she winked once. "Huh, he must have told you first!" he cried. The other boys laughed.

"Tim, why don't we get a new kind of pizza at your party?" Melinda asked.

"Why? Tim asked.

"To celebrate Shun's coming out!" Melinda said.

"Sure," Tim said.

Shun had inadvertently come out to his school, but the good news is that, at least in Tim's circle of friends, it seemed to go okay.

And so, he was on to his class after lunch, past a tidal wave of students, quickly walking so he doesn't get detention.

"I heard you just came out!" a soft Valley Girl-ish voice said. The wolf-boy turned around and saw a tall teenage girl with curly dark red hair, in a blue denim capri and a pink shirt, looking glamorous.

"Come out?" Shun asked.

"You said you were gay, right?" she asked. Shun's little announcement had coursed through the halls of Lakeside High School at warp speed.

"Yes, I did," Shun said, now with eagerness, relieved that it seemed to be going well. Shun's English was gaining all sorts of interesting expressions.

"That's totally awesome! Can you, like, be my gay best friend?" the girl asked.

"Gay best friend?" Shun asked.

"Yeah, because it would be totally awesome to, go shopping and stuff," she explained.

"Shopping for video games?" Shun asked with a big smile.

"No, clothes! Don't you know about clothes?"

"I don't really like to do go shopping for clothes," Shun protested.

"So, what television shows do you watch?"

"Well, I don't watch much TV," Shun said.  
"Huh, I thought you would watch _Queer as Folk_," she said. Then... "You don't look gay," she muttered, seemingly out of the blue.

"What is looking gay?" Shun asked.

"Aren't you going to put on makeup? Add eyeliner?" the girl asked.

"Funyuu! I don't want to do that! I'm a boy!" Shun cried.

"Shun! You'll be late for class!" a voice called out. It was Melinda, tapping her foot.

"Coming!" he cried, before "I will see you later, I have to go!" to the confused girl.

As Shun walked with Melinda, she asked, "Do you know her?"

"No…," the wolf-boy answered.

"Shun, she has no understanding of who you are as a person. She just sees you as 'gay'. She'll be pretty disappointed if you go with her," Melinda sighed.

"Well, she still seemed nice even if she thought I would be girly," Shun muttered.

"Wait a week, okay? If she's still interested, I guess you can hang out with her," Melinda said.

After school ended, Shun the pick-up area where students wait for their rides. Gaku texted him saying that he was going to be late. As Shun sat down and saw cars come and go, with the numbers of students dwindling down, a familiar face came and sat on the other side of the bench.

"Tim! What are you doing here?"

"My car battery's dead. My dad's going to pick it up, so I'm waiting for him." He didn't smile, and seemed unenthusiastic was that why.

"I am sorry to hear that," Shun said.

"You know, Shun, I don't know what to think about it," sighed Tim.

"Think about it?" Shun asked.

"You're not going to hit on me, are you?" The optimism of his friends had masked Tim's uneasy feelings.

"Hit on you? I'm not going to hit you!" Shun cried.

"No, like ask me on a date!" Tim cried in frustration.

"Hafu! I'm not going to ask you on a date!" cried Shun.

"Shun's not going to hit on you, Tim! He knows you're straight, and he's not interested in you anyway," chimed a voice. It was Melinda, arms folded, standing against a brick wall. She was waiting for her boyfriend.

"How do you know who he's into?" Tim asked Melinda.

"I told her," Shun said, causing Tim to refocus his attention on Shun, "I have a crush on somebody, and he doesn't go to this school." Shun's a quick learner. Tim sighed in relief, now knowing that Shun wasn't going to hit on him.

"Who is it?" Tim asked.

"Well…" Shun started, "you know the university student I see at the library in Detroit?"

"A _college student_? That guy you're seeing at the library, who took you to the restaurants... you have a crush on him?"

"Yes," Shun said softly, with a blush.

"Do you know if he's gay?" Tim asked quizzically.

"No," said Shun, not wanting to contemplate the idea of Kouya telling him he's not interested.

"Even if he was gay... He seems a bit old," Tim said with a sternness.

"Well my boyfriend's 18 and that guy's only 19." Melinda said, uncrossing her arms.

"But that boyfriend of yours got held back once, and he's still in high school," Tim sighed.

"That's true," Melinda admitted.

"Is he telling the truth about his age?" Tim asked.

Shun answered, "I saw his passport, and the date of birth says he is 19. My dad said that Japanese passports have special chips and are impossible to fake. He saw my passport too, so he knows my age."

"Okay, so he's not lying about his age, good," Melinda concluded. "I don't want to dampen your feelings, but you need to be careful. I mean, be careful with any date, Shun, but he's in college and is older and probably knows more about things than you. If you do become his boyfriend, make sure he doesn't do anything that you don't know about." Shun said that he understood. The wolf-boy was glad that his friends were watching out for him.

Meanwhile, at Wayne State, Kouya learned to do something fun after his shift at Tim Horton's ended. After he overheard someone hearing him scream in the bathroom and yelling "be quiet!" (Kouya thought it was empty) he realized that maybe that tactic wasn't going to work. So he went to the fitness center and signed up for the boxing class. Instead of yelling his frustrations away, he could punch them away. Whenever a customer got short with him, or his manager complained, Kouya punched the red bag with extra gusto, extra force. The aggression left his system, and when he left the class, he had a large smile on his face, refreshed, free of tension.

After walked out of the fitness center, he went to his usual hangout at the Olympic Grill. All that boxing made him hungry, and a nice coney dog would do the trick. When he sat down after ordering a coney dog, a familiar face yelled, "Yo!" He turned around and saw a 21-year old black man with cornrows, dressed in blue jeans and baggy white T-shirt with the words "MOB." The man approached the table.

"Albert," Kouya sighed.

"Kouya, my man!" the man called as he put out his fist.

"You are cutting class again, aren't you?" Kouya said as he did a fistbump.

"That nigga always cuts classes!" cried another familiar voice. Kouya saw Dante approaching from the other direction.

"'Sup, Dante," Albert said as he did a fistbump with Dante. "How are you doin', my man?"

"I'm doin' good. I heard that Kouya's takin' boxing."

"I am," Kouya smiled as he rested his arm on the table, "and it feels so good."

"I bet you are going to pick up a nice chick there," Albert laughed.

"Huh?" Kouya asked.

"Kouya, I bet you get a lot of pussy," Albert laughed, "you must have a lot of hoes out there, all at the same time!" Kouya's over-masculine appearance gave Albert the wrong ideas.

"No, I'm gay," Kouya sighed, "I don't date women, and I'm single right now."

After a beat, Albert cried, "You're a homo?" as he stomped his hands on Kouya's table.

"Yeah, I'm gay," Kouya admitted without a change in his tone.

"I can't believe that you do that homo shit," Albert spat.

"I do," Kouya said as he crossed his arms.

"Then I don't want nothin' to do with you," Albert cried.

"That's just too bad," Kouya said, "and who will you turn to when you need notes for that class? I don't think anyone else is willing to just give them away to somebody who never shows up." Kouya knew the many of the churches in Detroit preached homophobia, and Albert came from a rough east side neighborhood dotted with churches. Kouya wasn't terribly surprised that there were homophobic people around Detroit, so he was prepared for that moment.

"You know something? You are not a man!" Albert cried.

"Albert, my man, Kouya's just as much of a man as you and I," Dante offered, trying to cool tensions.

"Is he?" Albert cried.

"Quite so," Kouya replied, giving an air of indifference.

"I'm out of here," Albert cried.

"Suit yourself," Kouya sighed as Albert walked out. To Dante he said, "I tell you, when it comes test time, he's going to come back to me and ask me to sell him my notes. I guess I should tack on another five dollars for him!"

"Kouya, you are too fucking funny!" Dante laughed.

Shun's nerves tensed when Gaku took him home that evening. He tried played his 3DS at the dinner table, but his Tetris game wasn't going so well. Something else was on his mind... His heart pounded, hoping for his father to come home so he could get it overwith. Despite the anxiety coursing through Shun's veins, he knew he needed to get it overwith. He had accidentally told the whole school he was gay. If he didn't say something to his dad, someone else would... if they hadn't already. Gaku was watching the news in the living room, not looking at Ryo, patiently waiting for the inevitable.

Shun's heart skipped a beat when he heard the door creak open and the "Shun, I'm home!" at 6:30 PM. Ryo Kodori came in with his briefcase, suit and tie. Gaku dialed down the volume in anticipation of Shun's confession. Shun put his DS down on the table.

"Dad..." Shun opened, still not facing his father.

"How did school go today?" Ryo asked, still standing in the doorway.

"Dad, I, uh, have something to say." Shun said, as his body tensed.

"What is it, Shun?" The wolf-boy hesitated for one moment, but he then turned to his father and forced it out...

"Dad, I found out I'm gay!"

"You're gay?" Ryo cried as he dropped his briefcase. The loud sound of the briefcase hitting the floor echoed the wolf-man's shock.

"Yes, Dad. I... I like guys..." Shun answered, as he began to sweat.

"You just found out?" Shun's father yelled, causing his son to shudder. He turned to Gaku, but found no surprise whatsoever on his face. It's as if he expected this scene.

"I... I realized it days ago..." Shun said.

"Shun, did you tell anyone else?" Ryo asked, as he looked at Gaku, who remained silent and watched the television, before returning his attention to Shun.

"Daddy, Gaku-san knows already, my classmates know already." He wasn't surprised by the first revelation, but as for the second...

"You are telling me after them?" he cried, "I mean, why did you tell other people first? I'm your father!" His words caused Shun's eyes to produce tears.

"It was on accident, Daddy. I didn't mean to, but I said it on accident to them..." Shun's father paused for a moment, trying to digest the revelation about his dear son. "I was afraid of how other people would think, and I ... I didn't want you to get mad at me..."

"Shun... no matter who you like, you are my son. I love you." Shun smiled.

"Daddy, thank you..." Shun started. The silence caused the air around them to feel heavy. Shun asked, "What will Mommy think?"

"Shun, Mom will be fine with it. I'll tell her on the phone when she calls next time."

"What about Iwao-sama?" Shun asked, with fear in his eyes, wondering what his grandfather would think.

"Iwao-sama doesn't need to know, at least for know. He'll probably find out on his own."

"He doesn't?" Shun asked, "but isn't he the head of this family?"

"He's back in Japan, Shun. You are in this household now. I know he means well, but I think it's time for him to relax. You are here with me, and so I am raising you. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Daddy, I'm so relieved that you are not angry with me," Shun said, with tears of happiness.

"I love you, Shun. I am not angry at you. Next time, if there is something important, please tell me. Anyhow, I need to look over some papers from work in my bedroom, but let me know if you need anything." Ryo picked up the briefcase and walked back into his bedroom.

Shun felt a sense of relief drenching him, now knowing that the important people in his life who are in America know about his orientation... Wait! There was one more person to come out to. He wondered whether he waited, but he wondered what it would be like if Kouya also revealed that he was gay... that thought made him cautiously optimistic, so...

Shun dialed Kouya's number on his cell phone.

"Hello," Kouya answered.

"Kouya-san! It's me, Shun."

"What's up, Shun-kun?" Kouya asked.

"Well... I think I..." Shun started. His heart pounded, clamoring to burst out of his body. What will his crush think?

"Hmm?" a confused Kouya asked.

"I'm gay, Kouya-san." And the wolf-boy's heart began beating faster and faster, in anguish over how Kouya would react.

"You're gay?"

"Y-yes." Kouya paused for just a moment.

"That's something," Kouya said in amazement. "I'm gay too."

"Really?" Shun asked excitedly, his anxiety dissolving into sheer joy.

"That's right," Kouya answered, with confidence in his voice. Shun's inner cupid was brimming in happiness. Kouya's gay too! Shun restrained himself from squealing in joy. Shun had a chance to be his boyfriend! Should he ask Kouya out now?

But Shun stopped himself. He felt too anxious... he didn't want to ruin the possibility, and as his friends said, Kouya might not be interested in him. Shun decided that maybe he should wait up and see if Kouya seems interested in him in a way that was more than just friends... maybe he would get to know Kouya a bit more...

Shun's head went warm, and he pondered what it would be like if Kouya told him that he wanted him as his boyfriend. When would they hold hands? Have a first kiss? Have a first time in bed? Get married? Adopt kids?

"You there, Shun-kun?" Kouya asked, breaking the wolf-boy's line of thought.

"Hafu!" he cried, "Sorry, I was just thinking..."

"I'm glad to hear you are open about it," Kouya said. "I came out in high school. How did it go?"

"Well, my friends are happy with who I am," Shun said, "so I'm happy about it."

"Do you want to hang out on Friday?" Kouya asked.

"Well..." Shun started, wondering if he should ditch the invitation to the party and not say anything to Kouya, but he realized that it would be rude. "My friends invited me to a party on Friday."

"That's nice of them!" Kouya said, "Are you done your project? It seemed like we covered almost everything."

"We did..." Shun admitted.

"Have fun with your friends! We'll see each other on Saturday, won't we?" Kouya asked.

"Yes, I guess we can go over the test next week," Shun sighed. He liked playing video games with his friends, but he really, really looked forward to seeing Kouya again, seeing his cool, confident way about him.

"That's right, the test. We'll talk about it on Saturday. Anyway, Shun-kun, I have something I'm curious about," Kouya asked.

"What is it, Kouya-san?" Shun asked.

"What music do you like to listen to?" Kouya asked.

"Uhmm..." Shun started, "I do not listen to a lot of music. I like video game music, though."

"You like guitar music?" Kouya asked.

Shun smiled upon remembering a rock concert his Dad once took him to, and said, "Yeah, I like rock music."

"I'll bring my guitar on Saturday and show you."

"You play the guitar?" Shun cried.

"Yeah, I do."

"Do you do it just for fun?" Shun asked.

"Well... I have a band performance I need to do a jam session for, so I will be coming back from there to see you."

"FUNYUU! YOU'RE IN A BAND?" cried Shun.

"Yeah. I'm in a rock band with three Americans. We're not big, but we perform in Detroit and in the suburbs. In fact we've got a performance coming up Saturday night." This was great. Kouya was tall, handsome, a college student, openly gay, and also a member of a rock band! As far as Shun was concerned, Kouya was getting sexier and sexier each time he revealed a little more of himself. "We're trying to see if the venue will let in people under eighteen," Kouya continued, "a lot of our performances bar people who are under eighteen, or even twenty-one... and I'm only nineteen." Kouya finished with a sigh, thinking about how so many his age can't even go to some of his gigs. "If they do, maybe you could see us perform," Kouya suggested, causing little Shun's heart to melt. Now that Shun was comfortable in his sexuality, he was ready to get to know his crush a little bit more.


	11. Chapter 7: The Anticipation

On Thursday night, Shun had worked hard on his little project, using everything Kouya taught him, going over things one last time. He had a ten page paper and a Powerpoint presentation ready for next Monday. He went to bed, but not before looking at a few forbidden websites and thinking about what it was like if he and Kouya were doing that stuff.

That morning, Shun Kodori took the school bus. The fall leaves scattered in the mildly chilly weather, blowing around, as Shun boarded the bus, with the distinctive diesel engines roaring. As usual, the bus drove away from his doorstep, and Shun played a PSP to pass the time. As usual, those freshmen boys behind him, Jeff and Jimmy, were making nasty comments about the sexuality of that Alan kid Shun saw earlier. Suddenly a car swerved in front of the bus, and the driver slammed on the brakes! The pupils lurched forward in their seats, and the binders that Jimmy and Jeff held fell forward, spilling the rather unorganized papers and folders all everywhere. A girl on the other side threw off a paper that fell on her face.

"Ack!" Jimmy cried.

"Shit!" screamed Jeff. The freshmen boys, horrified at what happened, scrambled to pick up the papers as the other students laughed. Without a word, Shun sprung into action, helping them gather the papers and stuff from every nook and cranny.

"Uh, thank you..." Jeff said as Shun began handing over the papers.

"When you say those words about Alan, that hurts _me_ too," Shun said tersely after handing over the last paper. The freshmen blinked for a moment, and then looked away, blushing in embarrassment.

The bus dropped the wolf-boy off at his high school, and he walked into the cafeteria to wait for the first bell.

As he walked in the hallway, Shun found Tim.

"Hey, Tim!" Shun greeted, "are you doing well?"

"Yep. What's up?"

"I got the project done, so I can go hang out this afternoon!" Shun beamed.

"I got my car back, so I can take you directly to my house this afternoon," Tim said with a grin. "Text your cousin and tell him he doesn't have to come over to pick you up."

"Shun-kun?" a soft female voice asked him.

"Natsuko-san," Shun responded. It was Natsuko Yamanaka from his Japanese classes, whose father works for Toyota. She was a 15-year old 10th grader from Aichi Prefecture, in some town near Nagoya. She was about as tall as Tim was, about 5'5. She always, without exception, wore her silky dark brown hair in a long ponytail down to her waist. In the fall weather she preferred white long-sleeved turtlenecks, slightly above knee length gray denim skirts with pink stripes going from top to bottom, and white and gray Adidas sneakers with pink stripes that were worn with loose socks. Her earlobes always had white button earrings. She had been in the United States for two years, and like Shun she had English lessons back home before coming to Detroit. She was wearing a gray backpack, and her arms were crossed over her binder and textbook.

"Are people treating you fine, since you came out as gay?" Natsuko asked in Japanese. Natsuko had the Chūbu-style speech, which slightly differed from the Kantō speech Shun, Kouya, and Ken had.

"Yes, it went pretty well," Shun said.

"I'm glad that it went okay," she smiled. "Did you hear what happened to Kyoko-sensei?" Natsuko said.

"No," Shun said.

"Ken Mutoh-kun told me in a text message that her father is gravely ill."

"Hafu! Is he going to be okay?"

"He is not in mortal danger anymore."

"That's good to hear."

"Yes, but her family wants her to return to Japan. Apparently they said they got a guy from Tōhoku to cover for her for now."

"Funyuu! Really?" Shun asked. As the Japanese students talked, they were oblivious to Timothy Buckland's curious stare, at Natsuko... Natsuko and her pink fingernails and her dark pupils and her smooth skin and her well-trimmed eyebrows and her bow-shaped lips and her average-sized breasts.

"Hey, Nat-SUE-ko!" a female voice cried.

"Genevieve!" It was a tall Indian girl with long, curly black hair down to the green "LAKESIDE" logo on the front of her white volleyball shirt. The name "Patel" was written on the back, and she wore green volleyball shorts and white tennis shoes.

"Volleyball practice is after school today, so make sure you show up!"

"Oh, okay, I'll see you at practice," Natsuko replied. Her English was slightly accented, but not like Shun's. "Goodbye, Shun-kun," she said in Japanese as she walked away. Her long, silky ponytail swayed in the manner that the tail of an animal would. Tim was hypnotized by it, as if it was commanding him to follow her.

"Do you like her, Tim?" Shun asked.

"N-No! I..." Tim stammered, "she's just somebody in my c-calculus class who... "

"So little Timmy brags about his BIG porn collection, but he can't even talk to a girl he likes?" a female voice interrupted. There was Melinda, with her wide, cat-like grin, arms folded, against the wall.

"Shut up!" Tim cried.

"You must really like her, ne?" Shun grinned.

"Just ask her to hang out with you!" Melinda suggested.

"Hey, Shun, didn't you say your name meant... high and steep, as a mountain would be?" Tim seemingly changed the subject.

"Yep!" he beamed. Whatever Shun was, he wasn't tall as a mountain.

"What does the name Natsuko mean, Shun?" He didn't change the subject after all, and Melinda made a "ha ha" kind of smile.

"I have seen her name written down. It means 'summer' and 'child,'" Shun answered.

"Man, a summer child..." Tim moaned, liking the name "Natsuko" more and more. He drooled at the thought of hugging her... or kissing her... or groping her breasts... or looking up her skirt... Melinda sighed upon seeing the look on his face, knowing how much of a perv Tim was...

The day passed uneventfully, and after school Tim told Shun to meet him by the vehicle pickup area. The eager deer-boy led Shun into the gigantic student parking lot. Rows and rows of cars, mostly fairly newish American, German, and Japanese cars, were lined up in rows. They were in many colors, shapes, and sizes. Many students had wealthy parents who bought their cars, or got discounts due to the car companies they worked for. There were many small coupes, sedans, and hatchbacks, but some had large sized sedans or even SUVs.

"And here's my car," Tim smiled as he showed his Green Chevrolet Malibu sedan, which had been purchased only a few years ago. "I got my license after I turned sixteen on August 15. So I can drive as long as it's during the day. I can have one passenger who is under 21, and today it's going to be you!" Back in Japan Shun Kodori could walk or take public transportation everywhere, but during his time in Michigan he realized that having a car in America meant independence. It meant he could go places. He could meet new people. And he could see Kouya without Gaku or his father having to drive him. Man, if he could see Kouya Aotsuki more and more...

"Did your daddy buy it for you?" Shun asked.

"It's technically his. He owns the title. But he lets me drive it. We have three cars, and he got it because he doesn't want to drive his Mercedes into Detroit when it's not in the company garage."

"Does he work for Chevrolet?"

"No, he works for Quicken Loans. My mom's a lawyer and both work in Detroit. They work long hours too and face traffic coming up here, so I'm home alone until they come in late at night. When I didn't have my car, he only came to pick me up because a meeting was canceled."

"You seem like you like it that your parents aren't here," Shun said.

In a quiet voice he whispered, "Honestly, Shun, I kind of wish my parents had more time to see me. I mean, it's nice throwing parties under their nose, but I used to spend more time with my Dad and Mom, but they got so involved in their careers."

"My Dad isn't around much anymore either," Shun sighed, thinking about his father's new position in Nissan, "and my Mom is in Japan taking care of my grandfather."

"You have that Gaku guy, though."

"Gaku? He is my cousin."

"You treat him more like a parent than a cousin," Tim grinned.

"That makes sense," Shun said.

"But don't tell anybody that I said that stuff to you about missing my parents!" he laughed as he used his electronic key ring to unlock the car. Shun entered the interior of Tim's car. The cloth seats were fairly, comfy and fuzzy, but Shun could smell the sugar from soda spilled on the floor carpeting. The back seat had papers, paper food wrapping, and other clutter. As Tim started the car Shun heard his phone beep. It was a text message... from Kouya!

"It's all ages on Saturday. The concert is at the Club Number One in Royal Oak at..." the text read.

Shun cried "Yesss!" in Japanese.

"Huh?" Tim asked.

"Kouya is putting on a concert on Saturday!" Shun squealed in English.

At the party at Tim's house, all of the teenagers who usually showed up were present, with their cars lining the street around Tim's house.

"My friend Kouya is putting on a concert!" the wolf-boy excitedly announced to his friends, Tim, Melinda, Jacob, Ken, Phil, Mina, and Chelsea.

"Really? He's a musician?" Jacob asked.

"Yep! He says he plays guitar music and his band is 'Torque'!"

Mina Kim got her iPhone out and showed the screen. Kouya's band was on Myspace, which nowadays only had activity from bands. The header read "TORQUE" in Impact font, with crazy green, yellow, and white swirls dominating the background of the MySpace page. The text was black, and the whole MySpace was somewhat garish on the eyes. On the header Shun could see Kouya, of course, but also a tall, brawny horseman with hair dyed pink, a bald canary-man wearing a headband, and an Asian calico cat-woman with black hair with neon orange streaks.

"So who is going?" Shun asked.

"What kind of music is it?" Mina asked. She hadn't listened to the band's sample.

"He plays the guitar," Shun answered.

"It's probably rock music. I'm not really into that," Mina sighed. "I play the Suzuki violin, and honestly I like orchestras better."

"I'm seeing my grandma in Grand Rapids tomorrow," Chelsea answered.

"I'm going to my cousin's wedding in Beijing and I'm going to be gone for a little while," Jacob answered.

"I have an intramural basketball game to go to," Ken replied.

"I got grounded by my dad," Phil sighed.

"Why?" Tim asked, "that sucks!"

"You heard about the guy who made Goatse the wallpaper of all of the computers in the school library yesterday?"

"Hahaha!," Tim laughed, "I heard somebody did that."

"It was me!" Phil smiled. "The librarian caught me somehow."

"So why didn't he ban you from coming here?" Tim asked.

"I told my Dad that I'm having a study session with you!" Phil laughed.

"What's Goatse?" Shun asked.

"You don't need to know," Melinda sighed.

"So are you going, Tim? Melinda?"

"Hell yeah!" Tim cried.

"I'm up for it, dawg!" Melinda cheered.

"Are we ready to kick some ass?" Tim cried. And so, Shun Kodori had fun, taking turns with his friends, playing shooter games, fighting games, and other kinds, until Gaku picked him up.

The following Saturday morning, Gaku dropped off Shun at Lake View Elementary School, a spread out one story brick school building, for Shun's weekly Japanese lessons. They were lessons which his buddies Tim and Melinda and many others at Lakeside didn't have to do. He learned that on Saturdays Jacob went to Chinese school in Birmingham, a nearby suburb, and Mina did private Korean lessons at her house, but his other American friends had Saturdays off. It still made the wolf-boy jealous that most of his American classmates could play video games and watch TVs on Saturday mornings, and he sighed whenever one brought up Saturday morning cartoons they liked watching as a kid.

But then many at his high school, the sons and daughters of Japanese auto company executives and workers living in the Detroit area, were in the same boat, as were some Japanese Americans living in the area. Weekdays were characterized by American teachers, the lessons in English, and the tall students with the blondes and redheads and fruity dyed colors. However his weekend Japanese lessons were full of Japanese teachers speaking the national language, texts written in Japanese, and the shorter Japanese boys and girls around him, with black, dark brown, and dark red hair. Some dyed their hair blonde or light brown, as many in Japan did, but overwhelmingly the hair colors were dark. It was something of a paradigm shift.

Shun felt like he had regressed in age when he sat in the elementary school classroom, with its cursive handwriting by the whiteboard, the bright yellow chairs and wooden desks that required force even little Shun to hunch over, the bright white tile floors with red and yellow tiles placed throughout, and the cartoony American grade school banners with goofy-looking animals. While American high school classrooms had posters and cartoons, they were usually at least a little bit more mature-looking, more serious. Having his final day of classes in a classroom meant for small children seemed silly and embarrassing, a harkening to a long ago time. He didn't really want to return to elementary school. He loved being a high school student, a "big fish," and wished that the class was held in a high school.

Shun made sure to be seated in the front, getting a wide view of the Japanese lessons. To Shun's left was Ken Mutoh, the Japanese-American. Today he was wearing blue jeans and a dark gray Oakland University hoodie. To his right was Natsuko Yamanaka, his friend's crush, with her ponytail and earrings, skirt and turtleneck.

The new teacher, a bespectacled large, fat boar-man, walked up to the podium and announced, "My name is Botan Akagane, but you can call me Botan-sensei. You heard that Kyoko-sensei will not be returning, so now I am going to be your teacher. I come from Ōwani Town in Aomori Prefecture. I am new here, and I am still getting used to things here, so bear with me." His rural speech from the Tōhoku region sounded strange to the students, who were mostly from Tokyo, Yokohama, Nagoya, and the suburbs around those cities. His dress, consisting of a white oxford shirt, red tie, and navy slacks, was ''de rigeur'' for a Japanese teacher; many American teachers lately had opted to dress down, to the point where some school districts have began issuing dress codes for teachers. But Japanese teachers didn't have this problem since they all dressed up. His bushy eyebrows, fat body, and boar features reminded Shun of some of the beastmen he saw on those saucy websites.

As Shun spaced out, Ken raised his hand, and Botan-sensei called on him.

"I heard she was leaving permanently, but for certain, will Kyoko-sensei come back?" Ken asked.

"You are Ken Mutoh-kun, correct?" Botan-sensei asked as he held a sheet with his class roster, which had the photographs of all of the students. "She does not plan to come back here to teach," Botan-sensei answered. Natsuko raised her hand, and Botan-sensei called on her.

"So you are now our teacher?" Natsuko asked.

"I am your teacher," Botan-sensei said with a smile.

Shun was zoning out.. imagining what it would be like if that beastman teacher... was completely naked. What if it was him... Kouya... and that beastman teacher together...

"Shun Kodori-kun!" Botan-sensei called, "Are you present?" Whups! He was calling roll. According to the Japanese kana order, Shun's last name, Kodori, was fairly early.

"Uhm, yes, I'm here!" Shun answered hurriedly, drawing chuckles from members of his class. Then when the teacher began calling on other students, Shun began daydreaming about the concert. What would it be like? What were Kouya's bandmates like? Would it be good music?

Botan-sensei's Japanese lessons were as expected, with students practicing the writing of fairly advanced kanji characters. But the urbanite Japanese students found Botan-sensei's Tōhoku accent to be strange, so it was amusing in that way.

During lunch break, the students ate packed lunches in their classroom. Shun Kodori often sat with Ken, talking about the same kinds of things he usually talked about with Tim's group at the American school.

The conversation went to an abrupt halt when Botan-sensei called "Kodori-kun, please come with me." While the teacher was addressed by his first name, he usually addressed all of his students by their last names. Shun said goodbye to Ken and, after taking his backpack, followed Botan-sensei down the hall, into the elementary school's break room. It was a small space with a soda machine and several gray plastic chairs around a wooden desk, all set up to face Shun. The furniture this time was for grownups, so it was clearly the proper size for someone used to a high school. And one of the grownups sitting down was Director Hanamura, a woman in her late 50s in a black suit with bowl shaped hair. Botan-sensei took a seat, between Hanamura and two people from Shun's American school, Mrs. Williamson and Mrs. Matsui. Upon greeting them, Shun bowed, as he did when Botan-sensei first appeared. While he became used to not bowing in the American school, he still knew the Japanese manners and treated the Director and Botan-sensei accordingly.

Hanamura said in Japanese, "As you know, Kodori-kun, the festival is coming on Sunday, and those of us at the Japanese school organize it, but it is held at Lakeside High School, which is why Clerk Matsui and Principal Williamson are here. Kyoko-sensei was to help with the, but she unfortunately cannot do this. So I put Botan-sensei in charge of the direction of the _miko_ ceremony. Your father told me over the phone that you are interested in performing in the _obon_ demonstration, right?" Director Hanamura asked.

"I am," Shun answered in Japanese.

"And he said that you are a _miko_ in Japan. Is this correct?"

"Yup!"

Botan-sensei said "Kodori, I appreciate your help! You'll need to practice in front of us. As for the festival itself, you have a kimono, right?"

"I have one."

"Do you have a picture on you?"

"Uhmmm… " Shun said as he fumbled around on his phone. "Here!" he cried as he handed the tiny blue Nokia phone to Botan-sensei. It wasn't a great quality photo, but he could see Shun grinning as he stood upright, in a blue and white striped kimono garnished with dragonfly patterns. Ryo Kodori, in his trademark business suit, stood behind him with a proud smile, with one of his arms wrapped around Shun's side. Shun didn't realize that the principal of his American school was looking like she was lost. The other adults gathered around Botan-sensei, before handing back the phone.

Director Hanamura said, "As you know this is not the time of year for _obon_, but we need to show our culture to the American people. An _obon _celebration is a great way to show how we do things. You seem to have the grace to be a miko."

Botan-sensei said, "I agree. I can tell just from the first day that you are a quite diligent student, Kodori-kun." Then he noticed the only non-Japanese, the blonde American school principal, had been raising her hand for a little while.

"Mrs. Williamson?" Director Hanamura asked in English.

"Is it okay if you speak in English?" Mrs. Williamson asked sheepishly. "Sorry, I just want to understand what you are saying!"

"I am uh soo sorry my English is uh no good," Botan-sensei sheepishly cried, his English accent being even thicker than his Tohoku Japanese accent.

"Well you know more English than I know Japanese," Mrs. Williamson laughed.

"So instead of, uh, your last lesson, you can, uh practice dancing in here. I, uh have the other students do some other exercises," Botan-sensei said.

"Cool!" Shun cried.

"Thank you for doing this, Shun," Mrs. Williamson said, "Our school really benefits from the cultural diversity and I'm excited to see what your family had you do in Japan!"

"I see you in the afternoon!" Botan-sensei said with enthusiasm.

After the practice performance, Japanese school was over, and Gaku promptly dropped Shun at the public library in Detroit 30 minutes away. But the weather was quite nice out, and Kouya told Shun that they should hang out at Fountain Court at the Wayne State campus. It was a plaza laid out in a square shape, with stone paths from each corner of the square leading to a water fountain, and with trapezoid-style grass fields surrounding the fountain. The tall buildings of the university surrounded them on all sides, and so the two sat on the lush, green grass, absorbing the beautiful day and the soft chatter of the college students-they were all so mature looking and confident, like Kouya-milling around.

After maybe thirty or so minutes of test review, with shuffling of papers and constant pencil marks, Kouya asked "You are gonna ace this, right, Shun-kun?"

"Yes!" he cried with determination. He loved living in a foreign country, and enjoyed being with his new American and Japanese friends. And he wanted his Dad, his Mom, and his Grandfather to be proud of him. But there was another motivation to acing this test, right in front of him.

"Awesome! I've got a little treat for you," Kouya smiled, as he brandished his black guitar case, and unzipped it. It was Kouya's guitar, red and white, with tight strings. Shiny, well-polished. "Practice went well, and I'm pumped up for tonight, but I'd thought I'd give you a taste." Kouya then launched into an impromptu song, starting soft, with the tempo rising after the first few seconds, a melody suggesting a journey and exploration. There were no other band members, no fancy acoustics, just a dog-man and his trusty guitar. But Shun could tell Kouya had talent, and motivation, in him.

Kouya went "phew!" after stringing his last note. Then… "Why don't you try, Shun-kun?" Kouya asked.

"Hafu! I don't know how to play!" Shun cried.

"I'm not so great at video games either, but I still enjoyed _Super Mario Land_," Kouya grinned. Shun gasped as Kouya handed the guitar, his precious guitar that was shiny and dear to him. Shun could see that Kouya's fingertips had calluses, something that would come up with constant play.

But Kouya was right… he did let Kouya try out his games at the soul food restaurant. And so Shun held the guitar… man it was kinda heavy, and tried tweaking the strings with his fingers. It was an uneven melody, a novice tune. But Kouya smiled. It made him happy that Shun was sharing his passion, as he shared with Shun's. Things go both ways.

"Shun-kun, try this," Kouya said abruptly as he softly clapsed Shun-kun's fingers with his own and placed them on the guitar correctly. Kouya, in a brotherly fashion, guided Shun's fingers with his own, showing him how to move them. Shun blushed, as they were sort of holding hands. "Now try it," Kouya grinned, letting go of Shun's hands, leaving him on his own. The teenage wolf-boy tried again. His tune was actually kind of sweet... not professional at all, but it seemed to have a life of his own. After a few minutes he stopped.

"Thank you for letting me try it out," Shun said as he handed the guitar back to Kouya. "Anyway, you are really talented."

"Aw shucks, you would get better if you practice!"

Shun changed the subject as he announced, "I have something on Sunday, Kouya-san."

"What's going on Sunday?"

"The Japanese Festival," he said.

"I heard about that. They hold it at your high school in Novi, right?"

"Yup!"

"So are you going to it?"

"I'm going to be in it," Shun said. "In Japan I am a _miko_ in the summer obon festival. My daddy said I need to do it again in America. And if I get good grades, and do well at the festival, maybe Iwao-sama will be happy..."

"Iwao-sama?"

"He is my grandfather," Shun said, "He got mad at me when I made that bad grade. He and my father made a deal. I come to America, and I do well in all my classes and take the difficult classes. But with the bad grade he threatened to have me sent back to Japan. My father and my cousin think he wants too much control over me, but he is still the head of the family."

"Whoa! So you have a lot riding on how well you do," Kouya gasped.

"Yes," Shun sighed as his little ears drooped, as his tail went limp. "I wish Iwao-sama would be happy. He was… he was nice until my father suggested I learn English in America. It made him fear that I would not be Japanese anymore, that I would lose my place. My father and Iwao-sama argued for days, until they made a deal. I do well for the few years I am here, and then I go back to Japan when I graduate from the American high school."

Kouya patted Shun's shoulder to reassure him.

"I think you'll make your grandpa happy, okay? You are gonna do well, and I think you'll really impress your family with how well you do," Kouya said with a smile, before letting his hand go.

"I hope so. I mean, thank you for your help."

"No worries!" he smiled, "I think you'll do great! Your project is looking awesome and I think it'll impress your teacher." The husky dog-man decided to change the subject as he put down the guitar and put his finger on the stubble on his chin. "Shun-kun, is there someone you like at your school?" Kouya asked.

"At my school?" Shun asked.

"Yeah," Kouya said, with a soft smile.

"I-uh…" Shun thought, "I looked around, but I haven't really found anyone." There was Alan, but he was already dating a guy from another high school. Shun wouldn't dare go up to someone and ask "are you gay?" And hardly anybody at his school was openly gay. Shun thought some guys looked hot, but either they weren't gay… or they didn't seem that nice. Plus, there was a little something the wolf-boy was holding back.

"That's too bad," Kouya said, "Maybe you'll find someone you like." Shun half-hoped that Kouya would ask him out, but also was fearful of being put on the spot, or being asked directly if he liked someone who wasn't in his school.

"Have you dated before, Kouya-san?" Shun asked.

"Well… sigh, it's a long story," Kouya sighed. "I've had boyfriends before, but it didn't work out. It's kinda painful to bring up, honestly."

Wanting to make Kouya happy, Shun thought of the concert. He asked, "So what is the place like that you will perform at?"

"Oh, it'll be a small place. As I said, I'm not that big yet. So, you think you are going to enjoy my performance?"

"I do, Kouya-san! I liked that little song you did!"

He winked at Shun, placed his hands on his hips, and declared in English, "You'll be in for a treat, then!"


	12. Chapter 8: The Concert

At around 6 PM Gaku took Shun back home. By 9 PM Shun was eagerly anticipating the ride that would take him to Kouya's concert.

In the living room, Gaku said, "Now make sure you are home by one. The festival's going to be in the afternoon, but you'll need time to get ready and you will need to be well-refreshed. Your father and I are letting you go tonight because it means so much to you that Kouya Aotsuki-san's performing."

"Okay, Gaku-san! I'll call you when I'm ready!" Shun cried excitedly, with stars in his eyes. Then the doorbell to the Kodori house rang loud and clear. Gaku ran to the door and Shun stood in front as it opened.

"Melinda!" Shun cried, switching to English. It was his friend, all dolled up for the nightclub. Her lips were adorned with pink lipstick. Her ears were studded with sparkling purple earrings. Her jet black hair, well-brushed and straightened, was quite radiant. This time she wore a lilac-colored button down shirt and a black skirt ending a few inches above her knees. Shun could smell her flowery perfume.

"What's up, dawg!" she started, before she raised an eyebrow and looked puzzled. "Shun, don't you have long pants?"

"Why do I need long pants?" Shun asked.

"Well, the club we're going to… people don't really wear shorts and hoodies," she sighed.

"Should I get changed?" he offered.

"We're running late. Let's just go," she sighed.

After saying goodbye to Gaku, the two friends walked towards a gray Volkwagen Rabbit, its headlights glowing as if they were eyes. The glow of moon, clashed with the visual pollution of the street lamps lighting the suburban Novi street, obscuring the night stars. But the moon was out there, and Shun swore that he could see a rabbit on it, as Japanese is interpret the moon that way.

Shun asked, "Melinda, this isn't your car, is it?"

"No. That car belongs to Tim's brother, Tom. He's a student at Michigan State and he's home for the weekend, but he's going to another club. It'll be just us three!" she said.

Melinda opened the door for Shun, and in the backseat was Tim, greeted "What's up?" He had a pinstripe blue and white button down shirt, with a few buttons popped, revealing a white T-shirt. Unlike the shredded jeans he usually wears, his jeans this time were deep indigo blue, no tears, no shredding. And he also smelled kind of nice… that was cologne for men. Shun was wearing deodorant, but no cologne.

"You don't have party clothes? Tim asked.

"I guess not," Shun answered. Tim also sighed, but Melinda had gotten over it by now, and she smiled. Tim and Melinda agreed to switch places, with Tim being at the passenger seat in the front.

The deer-man driving the car asked, "Ready for an awesome night?" Tom, the college guy in the driver's side, had long scraggly red hair and a thick mustache, and horns that seemed longer and sharper than Tim's. He had jeans and a white button-down shirt, looking suave. He seemed to be a hippie type, relaxed and easy-going.

"I am!" Shun cried.

The drive from Novi to the club in Royal Oak took about 20 minutes, mostly driving on the Walter P. Reuther Freeway. During the ride, Melinda told Shun that she looked forward to turning 18 so she could go to some of the grownup clubs, and then 21 so she could go to all of them. But Timothy merely cracked a wide grin going from one set of freckles to another. Then, as the night view, brightened by street lights and the glow of other cars whizzed past the mirrors… as a _Beastie Boys _song played on the radio… Tim showed Shun a little card that he had.

"South African Identity Card? Timothy Johnson?" Shun, asked, "but it has your picture, fyunn!"

"Dude, you have a fake ID?" Melinda cried as she peered at the card.

"Hell yeah!" Tim cried as Shun gave him back the card, "I don't wanna miss out on the clubs when my brother's home, so I had a friend get this for me!"

"You aren't getting alcohol are you?" Melinda asked.

"Nah, I just wanna get into the clubs. My ID says I'm eighteen." The wolf-boy saw that Tim was telling the truth about the age on the fake ID.

The college-aged Tom said, "Hey if you want some yourselves, I have friends who know how!"

"Funyuu! I can't do that!" Shun cried.

"No thanks," sighed Melinda.

"What time is it?" Shun asked.

Tom said "9:17."

Melinda cried, "Hey, I hope you don't miss the performance! Kouya's band is playing sometime after 9:15 but I don't know when exactly they are performing." Tim handed her his Android, which had the website of Club Number One. "The site doesn't say!" she cried.

"Fyuun! I don't want to miss them!"

Royal Oak was a bustling, upscale suburb that had had quite a collection of bars and clubs, and a real downtown. It wasn't super-edgy like the clubbing areas in Detroit, but it worked for those in the suburbs. Club Number One was a tiny, rinky dink brick building along a side street, with corrugated metal used as a roof. At the door, the bouncer would normally check for IDs, but there were problems with the alcohol license, so for now the club was making its event all ages, but with no alcohol.

There were maybe thirty people in the dance hall… not a big attendance for a club, but it was a small venue. The lights were dimmed, and the concrete floor and brick walls were like phantoms. The lights illuminated the stage, made of concrete with walls painted black. The main hall had an empty bar area with not a bottle in sight; they were only selling drinks. The band at the stage was just wrapping up its act and leaving. Tim realized how late it was and asked them if "Torque" had played yet—the bartender told him that they were next! Shun asked about it, and Tim told him that Torque was Kouya's band. Shun sighed in relief, then stars filled his eyes as he eagerly waited for Kouya to come on stage.

As he stood with his two friends on the dance floor, Shun could see four figures emerge from a side door, onto the stage. They set up their instruments, like getting the kitchen tools out to make a cake or the easel and brushes to paint a painting; making a good work of art needs preparation, right? Then they all took their positions. In the center stood a slender, green canary-man wearing a white headband, a black jacket, black skinny jeans, and a long white T-shirt that reached down past his hips. The canary-man looked relaxed and had a soft smile as he held the microphone. Kouya, the one to the left of the canary-man, was wearing his usual outfit but now sported a dog tag necklace and a black armband. He sported an eager grin as he held his red and white guitar. To the right of the canary-man was a set of drums, red and white, manned by a calico-woman with long locks of black hair peppered with streaks dyed bright orange. Her black tank top accentuated her curves, and gray cargo pants were slouched on her hips. She looked quite stoic and composed, and her lips, painted with red lipstick, didn't frown or smile. Behind the canary-man was a well-built, large brown horse-man holding a bass. His muscular frame filled his purple tank top and the shredded blue jeans. His spiked hair had a bright reddish-purple tinge, and he smiled upon the audience from above.

"Good evening, how are you today?" the canary-man called into the microphone, with a soft voice that echoed smoothly throughout the venue. The crowd roared in response. "We are Torque, and we are going to start off with a song called 'Off to the Sunset'. Are we ready?" The crowd cheered as a way of saying 'yes.' "Ready! Three! Two! One!" the canary-man called. Then he launched into the song, R&B lyrics accentuated with American-style rock beats. The crowd danced to the mix of rock, from Kouya's guitar and the horseman's bass, and rap, from the canary-man's mouth. Kouya strummed his guitar with spirit. The soft-spoken canary-man's voice developed an edge, as his words flowed from his mouth. The horse-man played the bass with gusto. The cat-woman's hair whipped around as she tapped the drums to an appealing rhythm. The music energized Shun, and like the others, he began to dance. The wolf-boy didn't know how to dance, but that was okay—he was having fun! The music was energizing him, and he let off the energy. His odd style of dancing came off as precocious and adorable, and it caused a few girls to cheer him on and surround him as they danced.

Melinda went "WHOOO!" and joined in on the fun, and the band was able to keep the energy and excitement up. After the song ended, a hearty clap came from the audience.

Then the next song was "Whenever it's Sunny" and it sounded a bit mellower, a bit slower, but still appealing. Being in a nightclub for the first time, with no parents around, made Shun feel really grown-up, and he relished the ambiance. Knowing his crush was the musician responsible for the awesome guitar work made Kouya Aotsuki even more appealing to him. The dog-man drove a motorcycle, always had an air of confidence, was in college, and played damn good music. Shun wanted Kouya's strength, independence and confidence, which seemed to flow out of the music in great abundance. And the music made Shun dance in a slower tune, in the awkward but optimistic manner, the way a fanboy or fangirl would do when hearing a favorite.

As the song ended to an applause, Shun was positioned fairly close to the stage, towards the left. After the applause died down, Kouya turned to Shun and said, "Psst, Hey Shun…" in a crisp English voice. Shun turned towards Kouya. Was he really calling his name? "Shun, wanna get up here, for just one song?" Shun stood still and blinked.

The cat-woman rose from the drums, tapped Kouya's shoulder, whispered, "What are you doing? Don't make fun of that kid! That's mean!"

"I'm not making fun of him!" Kouya protested, "I really think he'd enjoy this!"

"You know him?" the canary-man asked.

"Yeah. I'll introduce you to him later," Kouya replied. He turned to Shun and said "Come on," and he walked on stage. Melinda's jaw dropped and Tim raised an eyebrow. Shun was positioned to the left of Kouya, with more cheer. The girls who had encircled him screamed; they liked seeing the cute teenage wolf-boy up on the stage.

"This next song is called 'Friendship!' It's personal, since I'm glad that I've had the opportunity to be a part of such an awesome band," the canary-man said. The tempo sounded upbeat and topsy turvy, almost like the _Beastie Boys_ songs Tom had on the radio. Shun responded to the music with his crazy style of dancing on the stage. The girls went "whooo!" and held their phones, recording Shun having a blast! Melinda and Tim cried out his name. And the applause was quite loud after the last strum of Kouya's guitar. After that one performance, Shun got down, and twirled around on the dance floor with the others. After the final performance, Torque was packing up its instruments, and one by one the members went backstage.

Melinda asked Shun if he was interested in staying, and out of curiosity Shun said yes. The other band was a little late, but suddenly Kouya appeared and asked Shun and his two friends to come backstage. The room was well lit, looking fairly ordinary compared to the exotic dance floor area, with its cave-like darkness and its sweltering stage lights. There was a mirror so people could check their costumes and appearance. Now Shun could better see the horse-man, the calico-woman, the canary-man, and Kouya. The wolf-boy noticed that his ears were ringing from the high decibel levels that had echoed throughout the concert hall.

"So you are Shun's friends?" Kouya asked, "I saw you two with him, so I figured."

"Yeah, I'm Melinda, and I go to his school," the fox-girl said.

"Tim, same as Melinda," the deer-boy said with a smile.

Kouya told Shun, "Anyway, I'd like to introduce you guys to my bandmates." The members stopped packing up and faced Shun. To the horse-man, Kouya said "This is Robert Stall, the bassist. Call him 'Rob'" Rob gave his characteristic large grin. He seemed like a friendly brother type, and he looked older than the other band members. To the canary-man he said, "This is Jonathan Robinson, but you can call him 'J.' He's our singer." J, a fairly approachable fellow, waved to Shun. To the calico-woman he said, "And this is June Moua, the drummer. She never talks." The silent June wouldn't be out of place in a painting of Greek goddesses, with her mature-looking beauty and sharply-defined features. Her generous physique made Tim blush a bit. After a pause, Rob asked Shun, "So who are _you_, kiddo?"

"My name is Shun Kodori!"

"How old are you?" Rob asked.

"I'm sixteen," Shun cheerfully explained.

"Sixteen?" Rob cried, "but you look a bit small!" Shun was quite short for his age.

Shun pouted, "Well I _am_ 16! I'll show you my passport!" And he dug his hand into his pocket, about to pull out his Japanese passport.

Rob held his hands and said, "Oh, no! There's no need!" he laughed.

J asked, "So, how do you know Kouya?"

"I met him at the library. I uh, spilled a drink on his book, and he kinda got mad," Shun explained. Kouya sighed. Shun continued, "But I paid him back by buying another book, and I told him that I was having trouble in my history class, so he agreed to help me with my schoolwork."

"Well, I'm glad it all worked out!" J said.

Rob asked, "So, where do you live?"

"Novi," Shun answered.

"Novi!? What were you doing in the Detroit Library?"

"My cousin has a group committee meeting there, so he took me to the library that day," Shun explained.

Rob said, "Well, it's luck that you found him there, eh?"

"Yeah," Shun concurred.

"How was the performance, Shun?" Kouya asked Shun.

"It was amazing!" Shun beamed.

Rob chimed, "We aim to please, buddy!" But to Shun, the music wasn't just electrifying.. not just entrancing… it also made him realize for good that he was infatuated with Kouya. He felt like Kouya was not just a friend… not even just a best friend… but something more.

Then, Shun became curious about the sole female member of the band. "Are you Japanese? Chinese? Korean?" Shun asked the Asian calico woman.

"Hmong," she answered.

"Hmong? Where's that?" Melinda asked.

"Hmong live in many countries. My parents are from Laos, though. It's a long story. I'll explain it some other time," June shrugged as she brushed her hair from her shoulders with her right hand. She had a habit of doing that, brushing her hair away, and trying to end conversations as quickly as possible.

"People here come from all over the place," Rob said as he used his hands to gesture to everyone in the room, "I'm half Polish, half German-American. J's black. June's Hmong. Kouya's Japanese. You are Japanese also, Shun. And you are…" he asked his friends.

"Mexican," Melinda grinned.

"Part Irish, part Scottish, part German, part Russian," Tim answered.

"You're just white!" Melinda laughed.

"I have heritage too! The Buckland family has its own crest," he protested.

"I bet you have some royal title too! Are you going to find you are the prince of Wales?" Rob laughed.

"Seriously, Rob, that wasn't funny!" J moaned. Kouya merely exhaled, looking kinda annoyed.

"So," Tim asked, "how did you become a band?"

Rob said, "You know, I was working an accounting job, and I felt kinda bored. A few years ago I played at a band at U of M," referring to the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor, "and I thought it would be fun to start another and play on weekends and my wife thought it would be an awesome idea." The horse-man was in his late twenties and was married. "So I went to Wayne State to watch a talent show over the summer. I figured it wouldn't be much since some guys weren't there for the summer, but already I found three… June, the drummer, Jonathan the singer, and Kouya the guitarist."

"I was kinda surprised when he offered to start a band, but his proposal sounded cool," J answered.

"Our first practice went well, so we just said let's form a band," Kouya laughed, "and we are gonna make a website and have T-shirts and everything."

Melinda asked, "Where are you guys from?"

"Hamtramck," Rob said.

"Southfield but my apartment is in Ferndale," cried J.

"Detroit," Kouya answered.

"Warren," said June.

"So of all the people, Kouya, you're the only one in Detroit," a somewhat puzzled Tim said.

"Where I am is cheap," Kouya sighed.

"So, can I come to these more often, Kouya? It was a lot of fun!" Shun, with his puppy-dog enthusiasm asked.

Kouya sighed sadly and said, "Thanks, Shun. I'm glad you had fun. But, well… not very often. Usually I perform at grownup clubs. I mean, I might be at an under 18 club or an all ages event once in a while, but it's not often." And Shun had the look of defeat, with his head drooping and his frown widening and his eyes looking like they might water.

Now… getting a fake ID to see Kouya more often sounded ... like not such a bad idea after all. But then… Kouya would recognize him! That wouldn't be a smooth idea… would it? Even if Kouya's okay, would he get into trouble?

June looked at her watch and asked, "Don't you guys have a curfew?" Shun paused for a moment, and then realized she was talking to him and his friends.

"Oh, uh, my cousin said he's going to pick me up. He said he'll call me when he's over there," Shun said.

June said, "It's almost twelve."

"Hafu! I have to be home by one!" Shun cried.

Tim cried, "Tom was supposed to text me when he was ready to pick us up." He picked up his Android. "And I left it on…"

Melinda cried, "Text your brother!" The deer-boy furiously tapped on his Android, checking to see what happened. No response from his brother. What was going on? Then he got a text from someone else.

"Huh, Dave texted," Tim said.

"You said that's your brother's college friend who lives in Troy," Melinda said. Troy was a wealthy suburb in Oakland County.

"Yeah… he is… my brother's DRUNK?" Tim cried!

"He's the designated driver!" cried Melinda.

"I guess he forgot, because the text says he took too many shots!" Tim cried, "How are we getting home?" And Kouya's band members collectively groaned.

"That's quite irresponsible of him!" said J.

"My brother does stupid stuff, but I didn't know he would do that!" the astonished deer-boy cried.

Shun was texting Gaku-san, but he cried, "Gaku says he can't come over either. He says he… did not have enough sleep last night…" But he remembered that Gaku said to him Saturday morning that he had slept well the previous night. What happened?

Melinda, with her cell phone, said "My Dad is taking pain medication and he texted me saying he can't drive."

"Guys, do you think we can take these poor kids home?" Kouya asked.

"Well… that's not a bad idea," Rob said, as he scratched his chin.

Using his crisp English, Kouya announced, "Shun, tonight's your lucky night!" Rob and Kouya led the three high schoolers out the back door to the Teal Ford Bronco at the club's parking lot.

"That's Rob's car," Kouya said, "If it's in Royal Oak or Ferndale, June and J take their own cars. But if it's in Downtown Detroit then they meet with Rob and go with him." Next to the Bronco were a purple Honda Accord-June's car-and a seafoam green Ford Taurus-J's car.

"We'll see you at the practice gig next week!" J said as he got into the sedan.

The Bronco was fairly old, with worn red cloth seats-they haven't had red seats since the early 1990s-and a few knobs missing from the radio control panel. But it was clear Rob didn't mind.

"Don't you have a better car?" Tim asked.

"Jesus, Tim! That's rude! Especially since he's giving you a ride!" Melinda cried.

"Oh, we have two cars," Rob said, "I have a Mustang, but I don't like taking it out much. And I kinda like having the band stuff in this car anyway."

"Hee hee!" Melinda cried.

On the ride back, Shun sat in the middle of the rear bench, between Melinda, to his left, and Tim to his right. Kouya was in the passenger seat, with the night sky in front of him.

Shun uneasily whispered to Tim, "W-what if I had a fake ID… I mean, to see Kouya…"

"Dude, you'd get sniffed out quickly!" Melinda reminded him. "You look too young. Tim here could pass for eighteen easily. But you couldn't. The bouncer would toss you out in a heartbeat!"

"What's this?" Kouya asked in English.

"Uhh…" Shun uneasily started, in English.

"I guess he likes your concerts so much that he wants a fake ID now," Melinda answered.

"Fyuun!" the embarrassed Shun cried. Kouya laughed heartily, and reached behind to muss with Shun's hair. He turned it into a noogie, and Shun yelped a bit, and Kouya brushed Shun's ahoge a bit before moving his hand. It was clear Kouya was seeing Shun as a good friend.

"That's sweet!" Kouya giggled as he continued facing the high schoolers, "I guess a whiff of my music turns you to the dark side." Then he said "I'll try to find some times and places when you can get in. Plus, Shun, I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

"Oh yeah, the Japanese festival," Shun said.

In Japanese Kouya said, "Plus I don't think your cousin or Dad would like it too much if you had a fake ID, eh?"

"What did you say?" Tim asked.

"I said thank you for coming to the concert," Kouya said with a straight face, in English.

"Hmmm…" Melinda sighed, wondering if that was true, but she chose to say nothing.

The vehicle stopped in front of Shun's house in Novi, and as Shun unbuckled his seatbelt, Melinda turned to his ear and whispered, "Dude, I don't blame you for having a crush on Kouya. That dude is _hot_." Shun nodded, but something else was in his mind. If it wasn't for Kouya's bandmate Rob, they'd be stuck at the club. Shun wondered what it would be like if he had a car of his own... then he would be able to get around by himself. But he didn't know what he needed to do in order to get one and a license.


	13. Chapter 9: Japanese Festival

The Japanese festival was held in the gymnasium of Lakeside High School. It was common for Japanese schools to hold festivals during the school year, and while the festival was a joint effort by a the area businesses, this was the closest thing to a Japanese school festival in Michigan; after all, Lakeside High had many Japanese students and many of the participants were the students at the school. The signs strung through the gymnasium and above the stalls were in Japanese and English.

Food stalls offering varieties of Japanese food, mostly those accessible to Americans like yakitori and sushi, had plenty of customers lining up for the savory flavors. Some stalls offered children's games and calligraphy. There was an _obon_ dance scheduled for 3:30. And there was also a tea ceremony. And besides the Japanese community, many non-Japanese stopped by to get a slice of Japan, including Americans living in Troy, Livonia, Warren, the Grosse Pointes, Detroit, Birmingham, and other places in Michigan, as well as some Canadians driving in from Windsor.

There was no admission charge, so many families could easily spend a Sunday afternoon doing fun cultural activities. In the crowd, a figure in a black leather jacket and blue jeans took off his motorcycle helmet, revealing his dyed silver hair. Kouya Aotsuki scanned the crowds, wondering where little Shun-kun could be. Then he saw a middle-aged woman passing out brochures. A name tag read "Ellen Matsui" in English and in Japanese.

"Matsui-san, is there a _miko_ performance that will be here?" he asked in Japanese.

"Oh, the _mikoshi_ demonstration. That will be to your left!" she said in Japanese with a large smile. Kouya went past a takoyaki stall, a book selling stall, and a trivia contest stall to find an audience gathering around a small teenage wolf-boy.

It was Shun… in a light blue kimono with a dragonfly pattern buzzing across the fabric. As he took a bow, Kouya could see that, unlike his street clothes, the kimono revealed his true body shape, slender and tiny. Kouya pegged Shun for a _twink_-it's a word in the American gay community that refers to slender, submissive young men. But the word had connotations of someone being, well, junk food. But in the past few weeks, Kouya noticed Shun developing his arguments in the essays he had written, showing that he was quite intelligent and hardworking, so he's more than just a _twink_. He was… a _super-twink_? But Shun was genuinely sweet, a bit spontaneous and clumsy… and innocent too, so in that sense he was a _twink_. Someday, though, the realities of life will hit him hard. But hopefully he will grow and mature, and learn from whatever will happen. Kouya reflected on what Shun would be like in a few years… a few inches taller, getting ready for college. Should he ask Shun out then? Ask for a kiss? But what if either he or Shun falls for someone else?

And there was a middle-aged wolf-man, with a bald spot on his head, holding a videocamera. He was about as tall as Kouya and wore a striped green and white polo shirt and khaki slacks. He momentarily turned off the recording and craned his neck.

"Are you Kouya Aotsuki?" the wolf-man asked in Japanese, "I heard you ride a motorcycle and that's a motorcycle jacket."

"That's me. Are you…" Kouya started, also speaking Japanese.

"I am Shun's father, Ryo Kodori."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kodori," Kouya greeted.

"Aotsuki-san, I've heard Shun has learned a lot from you. Thank you for helping my son."

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Kodori," Kouya said with a smile.

"What's your major, Aotsuki-san?"

"It's communications and business. But I'm considering going into music."

"Shun said you are a really good musician."

Kouya laughed a bit uneasily and said, "Well, I'm just starting out, and my bandmates are just starting out."

Meanwhile, Tim looked and saw the tea ceremony stall. The young lady handing the cups of tea to the Americans sitting on their ankles was Natsuko Yamanaka, dressed elegantly in her pink kimono. It was like Shun's kimono, but instead of dragonflies, it was decorated with faint flower petals, crisscrossing around the back and front. Her hair was still in its long ponytail, swaying around like the tail of an animal. A figure appeared behind Tim.

"When you get the chance, talk to her!" cried Melinda.

"But…" He looked like a deer caught in the headlight of a menacing SUV.

"How's she gonna know you like her?" Melinda asked.

"Uhh…"

"Girls don't like making the first move. It's sad but true. When she's finished, just ask her to hang out," Melinda said. She thought of how Carlos anxiously asked her out back in middle school. She would never have gone with him if he didn't.

"Isn't Shun doing something?" Tim asked.

"Oh yeah! We gotta see him!" Melinda cried. Tim kinda wanted to see more of Natsuko for awhile, but he had to see his friend do his ceremony.

Tim and Melinda made their way past the stalls, with the smells of good food wafting around and the chatter of children and adults doing fun activities echoing around, over to the area where Shun was. By then, a _mikoshi_, a portable Shinto shrine encrusted in gold and elaborately decorated, had been carried in by four burly beastmen and placed next to Shun.

There was an elderly dog-man wearing a medium blue kimono. He was fairly rotund, but not obese, unlike some of the Americans who attended the event. At first, in Japanese, the dog-man said "I am going to be the priest for the purification ceremony, and my name is Shigure Tachibana. My assistant, a tenth grade student at Lakeside High School, is Shun Kodori. He has volunteered to be the miko." Then, Shigure-san, as he asked Shun to address him (after all he had lived in America for a long time too), repeated the words in English.

The wolf-boy performed the ceremony, clasping his hands and, making his prayer to the spirit. Shun's father videotaped every second, eager to show his wife and father the footage. Kouya's smile widened, happy to see Shun help show America Japan's fabled culture. Tim and Melinda didn't understand a word Shun said, but it nevertheless was quite entrancing for them. After the end, the Japanese bowed, and so did some Americans. Other Americans, including Shun's two American friends, clapped heartily. Shun bowed back to them, and when it was done, Shun ran up to his father, giving him a big hug. Kouya, Gaku-san, Tim and Melinda stood by and eagerly saw the pride in Shun's father. Then the dog-man who acted as the head priest walked up. Ryo Kodori ended the embrace of his son.

"Thank you for what you did today! Will you be available to help with the other ceremonies?" Shigure-san asked. "I have a small Shinto shrine in front of my house. I normally work as the cultural activity organizer for the city government, but outside of my day job I do religious ceremonies."

"My Dad said I'll do the other ceremonies while in America, so I'll be happy to!" Shun said.

"Good," Shigure-san said. Shun's smile reflected his optimism at how things were going…

"Iwao-sama's going to be proud of me," Shun thought. "I'm going to do well on my project. I'm going to pass that test. I'm carrying the traditions of my family, and Americans found them interesting. The head priest invited me to help him with the others. Iwao-sama is going to see that I'm prospering here."

As the festival ended, the organizers began packing up. Natsuko was now walking towards the parking lot, outside of the school. She had changed into her regular turtleneck and skirt outfit, but she then had a pair of sunglasses on, blocking out the strong rays of the sun. As her ponytail swayed, a young teenage deer-boy trailed her path.

"Uhm, uh, hey!" he called. She stopped momentarily and turned around, keeping her glasses on. "I-uh," Tim started.

"Is something the matter?" she asked… it was soft-spoken but it didn't seem terribly enthusiastic.

"You want to.. hang out with me?"

"You're Tim, right?" she asked as she turned her head, keeping her sunglasses on, "you're in my Calculus class, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I sit a few rows behind you," he answered. Tim was the guy who the teacher always said 'Good Job' to since Tim was great with math.

"And you're the guy who plays a bunch of video games and has that porn collection, aren't you?" she asked. Was that… contempt in her voice?

"GAH!" he cried. "Never mind that! I just … wanna hang out!" For the first time he regretted being known for having such a big cache of smut.

"Hang out with you?" she asked. Was she laughing inside?

"Yeah, uhm… maybe… a movie!" he cried, trying not to sound desperate. She seemed unimpressed. Did he sabotage his chances with her? Does she not like him?

"A movie.." she said. "Which one?"

Was there a right answer? He knew she was into sports, and she would like a sports-related movie. But he wasn't terribly interested. _Resident Evil: Retribution_? He was a big gamer type, but would Natsuko like such a violent movie? Hmm… was there a happy medium? He was about to die of embarrassment, but he had to stay calm…

"Uhm… do you like… _Finding Nemo 3D_?" He liked Pixar movies, and he figured somebody like Natsuko would like them too. He remembered that she used to have a _Toy Story_ backpack and one day wore a _Cars_shirt to school. Was his reasoning gonna work?

"Hmm…" After a beat, she lifted up her sunglasses with her right hand and put them on the top of her head, exposing her dark brown pupils. She blinked a few times, with her long eyelashes, and answered, "You know… that sounds fun. I guess I'm up for that."

In his head, Tim cried, "YES!"


	14. Chapter 10: The Apartment Part 1

That evening, Shun, Gaku, and Ryo gathered around the laptop for the weekly Skype session. Shun sat in front, and his father and grandfather were to his left and right, respectively. After a few beeps and boops, the computer screen showed Yukie in her apron, but there was no Iwao.

"Hi! How is everything?" Yukie, cheery and chipper, asked. The computer reproduced her voice fairly well.

"Well…" Ryo started.

"Mom, I have something important to tell you," Shun said, interrupting Ryo, who hadn't called her since Shun came out; he decided he would let Shun tell her on Skype. Shun then came out to her.

The wolf-woman blinked for a moment, and said "That means… I can talk about men with you!" Yukie cried. "What do you think of Kimutaku? I think he's cute!" she asked in a puppydog-ish tone. That was Takuya Kimura, a former teen idol.

"K-Kimutaku?" Shun asked, baffled by his mother's answer. "Well… I… He's okay."

"Okay?" Yukie cried. "I think he's cute!" Her husband didn't feel threatened by this, as after all celebrity worship was in the realm of fantasy.

Ryo cautioned, "Yukie, I wouldn't tell Dad right away."

"Got it!" she smiled, understanding her husband's point of view. Then she asked, "How was your weekend?"

"I got to see a concert with Kouya-san!"

"You said he makes really good music, right?" Yukie asked.

"Yes! You have to listen to his music sometime! His band has a website," Shun said excitedly. Just talking about it brought back the fun memories from last night.

"Ah, he's coming on!" Yukie said as she got up. An elderly wolf-man in a gray yukata appeared and took the seat Yukie was in. The wolf-woman stood behind her father in law.

Shun asked, "Iwao-sama, Daddy said that he put the video of me on YouTube. Have you seen it?"

"No, Shun, I have not," Iwao replied.

"Why don't you put it on?" Ryo asked. Yukie reached over and typed a bit. Then she gave Iwao a pair of headphones, and he watched the video of Shun at the Japanese festival at his high school. Yukie had smiled in awe, seeing her son's elegant movements. But Iwao was stone-faced… his wrinkles didn't change, his mouth didn't move. Then she collected the headphones after Shun's grandfather had removed them. Shun smiled, expecting his grandfather to say how proud he was that he upheld the family's traditions.

Yukie asked, "Wasn't that lovely?"

"Shun, you did what I expected out of you," Iwao said. Shun blinked.

"Iwao-sama, did you enjoy it?" Shun asked, expecting and hoping for Iwao-sama's approval.

"You did what was expected, but…" Shun's spirits crashed. "You may as well do it in Japan. I don't see what's so special about it. You did it like anyone else would," Yukie was speechless.

"Dad, " Shun's father pleaded, "I think he did a good job. Why don't you give him recognition for that?"

"Ryo, this wasn't anything special. He just did as he was supposed to," Shun noticed his mother, now silent, had tears forming in her eyes…

For most of the evening Shun sank in the family couch and stared into space. Then it hit him. Maybe if he did well on the tests, maybe Iwao-sama would accept his decision to come to America.

That week, on Wednesday Shun gave his presentation to the class. He had just five minutes, and he outlined his topic well. When he was finished, his class clapped heartily in the American style. Friday was test day. The test questions seemed clearer and it didn't seem terribly difficult to put down the answers. Shun's responses were much better developed. He had spent all week studying for this American history test, using what he had learned from Kouya, and he hoped it would pay off. After he handed in his test, he received the grade on his presentation… it was a 98-an A! If he got an A on the test, he would certainly receive an A in the class!

Tim revealed to his friends that he was going to the movies with Natsuko on Friday, so nothing was going on at his house. His video game friends were making plans of their own, but Shun decided that he wanted to see Kouya again. They met at the front entrance of the Detroit Public Library, as crowds of college students and professionals milled about. After dropping off Shun, Gaku went from the library up to Troy to see a friend of his.

As Gaku's Altima sped off, Kouya said, "Congratulations on your presentation!" He had his motorcycle jacket on, and had his backpack and duffel bag with him.

"Thanks! It was because of you, Kouya-senpai," Shun said.

"C'mon! You did the work on it. I just helped you with the sources and gave you guidance, okay?" Kouya winked and placed his hands on his hips. "Anyway, did you do well on your test?" Kouya asked.

"I'm pretty sure I did good," Shun said, "but I still am not totally sure…" Kouya squeezed Shun's shoulder with his right hand.

"Dude, you did good, I'm sure! Anyway, I was thinking of getting something from my place. My guitar's there. We could meet up the guys from our band at J's apartment and I could play some music there, and then we could go to a pizza place. Rob said he might go with us." The weather was grayish, not so great. It sounded like a great day to do something in indoors.

"That sounds like fun!" Shun cheered.

"Yeah, they make some great pizza in Detroit," Kouya said. Shun was licking his chops, thinking about the stuff he had at Tim's house during those parties. "You said you had Little Caesar's before?" Kouya asked.

"Yeah, Tim likes that stuff."

"Well, I know of some unique places that are even more special," Kouya smiled. "Check with your father or cousin to see if it's okay if we stop over at my place." Shun got his phone out and texted his cousin. After a moment…

"Gaku-san says I can stop by," Shun said eagerly.

Shun had an exciting ride on Kouya's motorcycle, all the way to a series of red brick brownstones on Second Avenue. As the ride went on, the emptiness of the skid row area of the Cass Corridor, devoid of people, became apparent. The liquor store on the way looked dead, even though it was still open. In front of one such brownstone, four stories tall, Kouya abruptly stopped and shut off the motor.

"Follow me inside and open the door for me," Kouya said after they got off the motorcycle and removed their helmets. The few flights of stairs inside the arched entranceway seemed like a tongue.

As Kouya began carrying the motorbike into the apartment, Shun asked, "Kouya, why are you taking that inside?"

"So it doesn't get stolen," Kouya said. Then Shun remembered the day where he saw the vacant lots. The drama over coming out and preparing for the concert and the Japanese festival made him put that thought on the back burner, but now it was fresh in his mind. This wasn't Novi anymore. Kouya lived in Detroit. Once inside the apartment building, Kouya did not go up the flight of stairs, so there was no need to lug up the motorbike. Thank goodness he had a first floor apartment. The hallway still stank of ammonia, and Shun curled his nose, hoping that Kouya's apartment would smell better. Would it?

Kouya turned the key in the steel door and pulled the door open. Voila, it was Kouya's pad, a studio-style apartment. And it didn't have a bad odor inside. A white tile floor covered the entire main room. The walls were plaster, plain white and not decorated. A small wooden door at the northern wall was the entrance to the dingy manila tile bathroom with a single sink and shower. To the right of the bathroom was a slide-in door revealing a closet, and to the right of that was the door to the hallway. The white fridge was on the western wall, periodically humming. A stove and kitchenette were to the left of the fridge. A black couch, with two small pillows, was on the eastern wall. Kouya's bed was against the corner of the southern wall and the eastern wall. The curtains of the two windows, at the southern wall, were drawn, revealing a gray, gloomy sky. A small wooden dresser was to the right to the bed, and a small desk with a bigger chair and a slightly smaller chair was at the corner of the western wall and the southern wall. Kouya carefully placed the motorcycle inside his unit, next to the entranceway.

"Wow! I like your apartment!" Shun beamed upon taking it in. "It's kinda messy, though." And it was, in the typical college student fashion. A few dishes hadn't been done, and some articles of clothing were strewn around. And it wasn't quite as big as Shun thought it would be. The appliances looked older, and Shun was a bit used to the nice appliances and furnishings of his suburban house in Novi.

Kouya, a bit self-conscious, sighed, "Well, maybe it is beat, but it's affordable. J has a much nicer apartment than I do. Everyone else I know at Wayne State has a better place than I do, or they live in the dorms. While it's okay in the other seasons, I heard from people that once it hits November it's a pain in the ass since it gets cold and the heaters in this place aren't very good."

"Still… it's cool that you have your own apartment," Shun said. He thought of how his own house in the suburbs seemed fairly lonely with only two people in it; this small apartment, despite having far less room than his house and not furnished in a deluxe style, seemed fairly cozy.

"Thanks," Kouya said. "You'll have your own someday. Most people do at some point. Anyway, we'll only be here for a minute, Shun-kun. I just have to get my guitar." As he looked around, Kouya thought, "Hmm.. where is my guitar? I swear, I always place it on the chair next to the computer." Kouya then realized the guitar was under the covers of his bed, but the gray sky was turning murkier and murkier.

Upon noticing the outside of the windows, Shun cried, "Hafu! Kouya-san… It's really rainy!"

"WHOA!" Kouya cried upon turning around. The gray hue of the sky was deepening quickly. Peals of thunder boomed, echoing throughout the apartment. Rain blasted the windows, obscuring the already ugly view. The weather changed!

"Man! You need to call your cousin and figure out how I'm going to get you home," Kouya said. Shun pulled out his phone, and sent an initial text to Gaku. But instead of being texted back, Shun's cousin called him. On the phone, Shun spoke with his cousin for a moment.

"It's for you, Kouya-san!" Shun said.

"For me? Your cousin wants to talk to me?"

"Yeah!" Shun chirped.

"Good afternoon, Aotsuki-san," Gaku answered.

"Kodori-san," Kouya asked, "what do you need to speak to me about?"

"Well, I checked the weather forecast, and it seems like it is really bad. I'm going to stay put in Troy. The roads are too unsafe for me to come pick up Shun-kun."

"Yeah, we were gonna go to a pizza place. But that ruined our plans," Kouya said.

"Anyway, Aotsuki-san, would you be interested in letting Shun-kun stay with you for the night?" Gaku asked.

"S-stay with me?" Kouya stuttered.

"Yes. He seems really comfortable with you. I think you are capable of letting him stay with you for the night. Maybe he'll enjoy it. Just be sure to treat him well, _okay_?" On the surface it would seem relaxed and nonchalant. But something in Gaku's voice seemed to not only be a promise, but also a threat. Though Gaku never explicitly threatened Kouya, his monotone voice had an edge. Kouya could read between the lines: Be responsible for Shun, and make sure nothing happens to him… or else. Did Gaku have an element of suspicion towards Kouya? Not anything above the ordinary… after all, he didn't tell a lie to either Shun or his cousin. Was it because Gaku was protective of his cousin? Certainly.

Kouya realized, "Well, Shun-kun is going to be in _Detroit _for the night, and not only that, but Gaku-san knew from the address that Shun-kun sent him that I live in a still-sketchy area! No wonder he's like that!"

So he said, "Kodori-san, I'll do my best to make sure he's at home!"

"Good. I'll talk to you tomorrow morning," Gaku said before abruptly hanging up. Kouya gave the wolf-boy his phone.

After letting out a sigh, Kouya said "There's no way we're going to a pizza parlor. You're staying with me for the night."

"Really?" Kouya nodded. Shun felt funny inside… he was going to intrude on Kouya's little pad. No matter how well-off Shun's family was, he still lived at home. The wolf-boy was impressed that, at the tender age of nineteen, Kouya had his own place. And… it's his crush. Was Kouya going to confess his love? As Kouya removed his motorcycle jacket and put it on a clothes hanger in the closet, Shun wondered if Kouya was going to undress in front of Shun? The wolf-boy then felt a pang of guilt for thinking about Kouya in that way. He didn't realize that Kouya felt some anxiety about having him stay over for the same reasons.

A single "You want a drink?" from Kouya shattered the awkward pause.

"Well, it's very nice of you, but…"

With a wink, as he placed his hands on his hips, Kouya cried, "Shun-kun, don't be modest. I'm the host, and hospitality's the name of the game!"

"Okay, Kouya-san!" Kouya went up to the humming refrigerator and opened the door. It wasn't well-stocked…

"Crap… I guess I only have a can of coffee. Do you like coffee?"

"I don't like coffee," Shun said.

"Sorry, man. I haven't been going to the grocery store lately. Well, there are soda machines on the second and fourth floors. We'll go up together and we'll get something, okay?"

"Okay, Kouya-san!" Shun chirped. Kouya's wallet had some dollar bills, so he had enough to pay for drinks for himself and for his high school-aged companion. The pair walked up a set of stairs to the second floor, and they traveled to a small interior room where there was only standing space for one person. American vending machines don't usually show the drink in front of the customer. Instead it's just a large banner with a logo of the most famous soda pop with a few buttons. Some newer machines work differently, but this wasn't a ritzy apartment complex. This machine had the Coca-Cola logo, with several buttons with different choices. However the electronic display was out.

"Damn, the soda machine on this floor doesn't work. I'll have to go to the fourth floor." The pair then made their way up two more flights of stairs. Kouya dreaded the all too real possibility that the machine wouldn't work. The fourth floor soda pop machine was further inside the small room than the other one was. Shun waited outside, and for just a moment, Kouya darted into the room to pick a soft drink.

Kouya stepped out and called, "Hey, it seems to be working! What do you want? They have Coca-Cola, Sprite, Mr. Pibb, Sunkist, Orange Fanta, Pineapple Fanta, and Vernor's."

"What's Vernor's?" He had seen cans of it at Tim's party, but he hadn't tried it before.

"It's a ginger ale. You should try it!"

"Okay, Kouya-san!" Kouya then darted back inside, and was trying to get his dollar bill in the machine. But it kept getting stuck, and Kouya had to keep running it on the machine to try to get it nice and flat. Meanwhile, an enterprising young man saw an opening.

"Hey man! I got some good stuff!" a voice called from an opening apartment door labeled "44." It was a teenaged boy in a baseball cap, 5'8. His white T-shirt was emblazoned with an image of an AK-47, and he wore a jewel-crusted medallion. His sagging blue jeans only half-covered his black boxers. His shoes were expensive white Michael Jordans that were well-coveted in Detroit. His arms were decked in strange tattoos. "I'm talking to you, my man," he said. It was clear he was talking to Shun.

"Good stuff?" Shun asked.

"Yeah! You do weed?"

"Weed? Is that a kind of grass?" Shun didn't know the English terms for marijuana, and back in Japan he didn't know druggies, so he was unfamiliar with even the Japanese terms.

"A kind of grass? Man, I got the best grass for you!"

"Hafu! Why would I buy grass? My house has a lot of grass on the front lawn," a puzzled Shun said.

"Hahahaha!" the drug dealer laughed, almost busting his belly, having to clutch it because it hurt so much. After that was out of his system, he put his hand on the thoroughly perplexed Shun's shoulder. "Man, I like you. C'mon, I'll show you what good grass is really like! I'll let you try some for free! I've got some harder stuff too… Coke, speed…"

"Coca-Cola?" Shun asked.

"Naw, man! It's not pop. It's better than that, and I'll let you have some for free!" As the drug dealer was about to goad Shun into coming into his apartment, the dog-man emerged with his can of Vernors held by his right hand. The can for Shun was in the crook of his right arm.

"Shun-kun!" Kouya yelled as he briskly walked up to Shun and pulled him away with his left hand. "Don't talk to him," Kouya cautioned him, speaking Japanese. Kouya had pulled Shun away so quickly that the dealer was speechless.

The dealer yelled, "You motherfucker! I was gonna have a deal!" But by then Kouya and his friend were long gone…

As they went through the hallway, Shun, speaking Japanese in between sips of his soda, said "He was weird. What was he wanting?"

"He's a drug dealer. You don't want to get involved with the likes of him!"

"He wanted me to do drugs?" Shun cried as he and his friend entered the stairwell to go back to the first floor.

After a big swig, Kouya said, "Yes. Shun, there are some sketchy people in this complex. It can be a problem… especially since you don't know a lot of nuances of English slang yet. You might not know what you get into." After a moment, he said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let you out of my sight." He remembered what his cousin said. He was already about to break that promise! Dammit!

"Dad said drugs are bad for you," Shun said.

"That's an understatement," Kouya said. "I mean, I don't want to get into the politics of it, but if I were you I wouldn't go near them."

"I don't think anybody at my school does drugs."

"Shun, there are people who do drugs in any place. In the suburbs, they keep it behind closed doors. Here, it's out in the open and the people from the suburbs go to Detroit to buy drugs."

"So there are people at my school who do drugs…"

"Yes. Your friends probably don't, but keep in mind that there are people who do."

"So, that drug dealer guy… Why don't you tell him to stop?" Shun asked.

"There's no way he's going to stop. And I'm not telling on him to the landlord. Who knows what would happen to me if I did. He probably knows anyway, but understandably is too afraid to do anything."

"What about the police?"

"People in this complex have called them already. They've never acted on it…"

As the two re-entered the first floor, they tossed their empty cans in the recycle bin set up by the stairwell. Then, Kouya ran into another familiar person, somebody who lived next to his unit.

"Hey Kouya! How are ya doin'?" the lady in a pink polo and white capris asked. She was quite slim, but looked a bit weathered. She was holding a little bundle in a fuzzy green blanket.

"Not much, Jessica," Kouya said. "This is my friend Shun. He's visiting."

"Well, how are ya doin'?" the lady asked.

"I'm Shun!"

"I'm Jessica!" the young woman said, "and this is Brittany!" The bundle was a baby girl cooing.

"She's cute!" Shun answered as he approached Jessica and her child.

"You can hold her," Jessica said. She gave Brittany to Shun to hold, and the wolf-boy calmly stroked the baby's head. The baby giggled in appreciation, and Shun enjoyed rocking her back and forth. Kouya smiled at the quite wholesome scene.

After giving the child back to her mother, Shun asked, "Is the baby your sister?"

"She's my daughter," Jessica answered.

"Is your husband here?" Shun asked, now assuming she was older than she looked.

"I don't have no husband," Jessica said.

"Oh… do you have a boyfriend?" Shun asked, now somewhat shocked. It was unusual to have children out of wedlock in Japan. In the United States it was far more common.

"I don't have any now… and I don't know who the baby's daddy is," Jessica responded.

"You don't know who the daddy is?" Shun asked.

"No, Shun." Shun was puzzled on how she couldn't know who the father was. "I was with a dude, and I thought he loved me, but he left me, and then there is another dude, and I thought he loved me… And I have no way of tracking them down." Jessica blushed out of shame, and Shun waited for awhile, before trying to change the topic.

"So… do you work in an office?" Shun asked, thinking she was like an office lady, or a female office worker seen in Japan.

"No, I don't work at no office."

"Well, what do you do?" Shun asked.

"I'm on welfare but it doesn't pay nothin' so I'm tryin' to find anything…"

"On welfare? How did you not get a job?"

"I don't have no high school diploma and I'm only sixteen," Jessica clarified.

"But I'm sixteen too!" Shun cried, shocked at how someone this young is… already a mother. "What about your mommy and daddy!" Shun cried.

After an uneasy pause, Jessica said, "My daddy left before I was born. My momma's on crack and I can't live with her no more. She kicked me out." Shun began to cry… he had never personally heard of such personal tragedies before in his coddled life in Japan and then in the affluent American suburbs.

"Awww, baby, don't cry," Jessica said as she held Shun's shoulder. "Don't cry for me. I.. I'm doing my best to hang on, okay?" After a moment, after letting go of his shoulder, she said "I love Brittany, I love her, but I made a mistake by getting pregnant. I had to drop out of school, I don't have nothin' right now. Shun, don't make the mistakes I made." Of course Shun was a male, and could not become pregnant, but nonetheless Jessica's general point hit home.

Kouya clasped Shun's right hand with his right hand and said, "Well, I think we better get going. Maybe I'll see if I can find something for you."

"You are so sweet, Kouya," Jessica said. As Kouya led Shun away, the young lady said, "Take care." As Shun's sniffles subsided, Kouya gave out a deep sigh.


	15. Chapter 10: The Apartment, Part 2

"Taking a kid is a big responsibility," Kouya sighed as he switched back to Japanese.

"My Mom said that she had my hands full raising me," Shun said.

"So put yourself in Jessica's shoes," Kouya said, giving Shun a little mental exercise as they walked towards Kouya's apartment door.

"Yeah.. That means Jessica has no time to have fun… No time to play video games, no time to hang out at friends' houses, no time to study hard for school."

"Yeah. It's tough being a single mother. And there are a lot of girls like here around her, some in the suburbs, but quite a few here in Detroit," Kouya said. "And while some do become pregnant in the suburbs, it's easier for them to support their kids. Speaking of dropouts, the dropout rate at these public schools around here is ridiculous. They may fudge the numbers, but I heard that 25% of public high school students graduate."

Shun said, "25%? So, where do the 75% go? To another school?"

"Shun, in Japan high school is optional, but in America you are not considered fully educated until you leave high school. But people who are 16 can drop out of school, and so that is what Jessica did. You don't go to another school. However, if you drop out, how will you compete in the job market with people with high school diplomas, let alone college degrees? A high school dropout here is considered to be a loser, and having a high dropout rate is bad. In most places the rate is over 50%. At Lakeside High I bet you it's 7% at the very worst."

"It's that different?" Shun asked. Kouya nodded.

"What if you dropped out, Shun? What would you do?" Kouya asked.

"I… I don't know what I would do with myself," Shun said.

"And on top of that you have a kid. That's Jessica's conundrum. She knows she made mistakes. You are at an age where you are beginning to have more responsibility. Thankfully your dad and your cousin look out for you. But someday they won't be around anymore, and you will have to fend for yourself."

"So… what about your parents?" Shun asked. Kouya froze.

"My parents?"

"Yes, are they in Japan?"

"Yes…"

"Will they visit you?" Shun asked.

"Maybe… they… are kind of busy," Kouya said uneasily. "I don't talk to them, Shun." The wolf-boy sensed that it was a painful topic for the dog-man. Should he probe in deeper? No, that would be rude.

As Kouya was unlocking his apartment unit's door, a man in his late 50's walked down the hall past them. He had bald head and a broad black mustache, like what Coach Nasser has. The pinstripe gray and white oxford and gray slacks made him well dressed.

"Mr. Kassab! You got my rent on time, right?" Kouya cried. It was Yossef Kassab, the landlord.

"Yes, Kouya, you paid your rent," he answered with his thick Middle Eastern accent. "You always do." After a beat, the man asked, "Is he your friend?"

"Yes, that's my friend Shun," Kouya answered, as he used his hand to gesture towards the wolf-boy.

"I am from Japan but I live here like Kouya does!" Shun said. "Mr. Kassab, where are you from?"

"I am from Iraq," Mr. Kassab answered.

"Iraq… does that mean you are an Arab?" Shun asked.

"I am not an Arab, I am a Chaldean," said Mr. Kassab.

In English Kouya said, "There's a lot of Chaldeans running the gas stations and convenience stores around here," said Kouya, "and they are Christian, not Muslim."

"That's interesting," said Shun. Then, something caught his eye. "Your hands…" Shun said. Mr. Kassab's looked splotchy, having strange webbings and marks. He had never seen those kinds of hands before. What were they?

"My hands?" asked Mr. Kassab.

"Shun, stop," Kouya said in English.

"Sir, your hands… what happened?" Shun asked, brimming with curiosity but also half-afraid, yet unable to stop himself. While he was able to stop when Kouya signaled that his parents were a painful topic, the hands were so strange that he couldn't help it.

"Shun-kun, stop!" Kouya said in Japanese.

"But…" Shun protested, using Japanese.

"STOP!" Kouya cried.

"Kouya, he needs to know. He needs to know what people are like in this world," Mr. Kassab said, with some venom seeping in his voice. Turning to Shun, the landlord asked, "Do you know Saddam Hussein?" Kouya froze, not liking where this was going.

"Saddam Hussein…" Shun said to the landlord, "he is that guy the Americans removed in Iraq."

"Well, I was a worker in his interior ministry, when he was in power. One day I said something to the neighbor criticizing Saddam's economic policy. Saddam thought I was not loyal and his guys wanted me to confess to things they said I did to get me to shut up and not criticize. So his guys took me into a dungeon of his. Had me remove my clothes. Then they whipped me. They whipped my back with a hose, and then he whipped between my legs with the hose."

"Between… your legs?" Shun asked. It sounded scary.

"They hurt my penis," said Mr. Kassab. And Shun's mouth went agape, his eyes widened, his voice suddenly cut off, and his body froze upon processing this knowledge. The Iraqi landlord said, with fire growing in his eyes, with the decibels steadily increasing, "And they had cigarettes. Instead of an ash tray, they used me. My hands, my back, as their ashtray. That is why my hands are fucked up." Shun didn't say a word. Kouya had heard the stories of Mr. Kassab's torture before, but he was too surprised by Mr. Kassab being frank like this in front of little Shun to protest. "And they made me confess to things I did not do, and I was fired." Shun had no words. "And there were many people tortured worse, cut into pieces, melted in acid, raped. And when the Americans came I thought things would get better. Then the fighting started, and more people disappeared, and were found, without eyes, without tongues, without noses, without ears, dead." Shun imagined what it would be like if someone chopped off his nose or ears. "And the terrorists hated us Chaldeans, and they went after us. Many of us Chaldeans were attacked and tortured, and we had to flee. And so I go to Detroit with my brother, who has been here for years. Do you see, Shun, where I came from?" Shun weakly nodded. "And then I come here to be in peace, and my friends running the gas stations, you know why the bullet proof glass is there in those gas stations, right? You hear the stories of shopowners shot dead? After all in Iraq, you are shot here?" Shun's eyes were tearing up. He had heard of dictators being cruel and horrible disasters occurring on the news… and hearing about hardships in World War II. But to hear a first hand account of modern day cruelty, to see the eyes of a torture victim as he tells his story, to listen to his speech describing grief and hatred the pains he and his community had suffered… that was earth-shattering. Mr. Kassab had to relive all of this because Shun was so damned curious.

Again Shun began to sob. "I… I am sorry, Mis-mister Kass…" he sobbed, sorry to make the Chaldean re-live the pain and anguish.

"Mr. Kassab, I think he understands it now," Kouya said uneasily as he put a hand on Shun's right shoulder.

"Maybe it is a good thing he asked, Kouya." Turning to Shun, he said, "I am sorry if it disturbs you, but when you grow up, you will eventually hear of these things more and more. Something bad may happen even to you or your loved ones someday. Many people in this world suffer a lot. You are lucky. I can tell that you had parents who loved you, a government that is not evil, an environment with almost no crime. Not all of us are lucky." And without a word he walked back down the hall to check on his other tenants. He could see Shun shrinking and trembling in response to being exposed to rather uncomfortable truths about his world.

"Shun-kun, maybe he is right, that you need to know how cruel people can be," Kouya solemly said in Japanese. "But it makes me sad to see you like this," Kouya said. Shun sniffled, and his eyes were so reddened, so blustered. "Would a hug cheer you up?" Kouya offered. Just an innocent idea.

"I… that's very nice, but it's okay," Shun meekly answered.

"C'mon, I can give you a hug," Kouya said. Shun responded by moving a bit closer to Kouya and nodding. Then the dog-man clutched Shun maybe a bit too strongly.

"Nn…" Shun grunted as Kouya grabbed him. It felt good to comfort Shun, after he had been in so much emotional pain while learning about the dark secrets of the world. Kouya first started with an embrace, squeezing Shun's soft, short frame. Then he began rubbing Shun's back to soothe him. The cotton hoodie felt soft, and the heat from Shun's body felt good. Shun's sobs died down slowly. Kouya realized that he loved embracing Shun, holding him, comforting him. Likewise, Shun could feel the warmth and sweat of Kouya's muscular frame. His nose was pressed into his chest… Kouya's scent was attractive… arousing even? His cheeks reddened somewhat.

"Well, what do you want for dinner?" Kouya asked after ending the hug. Shun Kodori felt a bit empty in his stomach. Maybe food could help.

Shun said, "Well, I am just a little bit hungry, Kouya-san."

"Do you like pasta?" Shun nodded.

Back in the apartment, Kouya got to work on the stove, boiling the water. A jar of a generic brand of tomato sauce and an opened box of penne pasta, both from the Jimmy Guy Grocery Store. Shun was on Kouya's couch, playing Super Mario Land on his Game Boy Advance, but whenever Kouya had something to say, he hit the pause button.

Kouya explained, "Pasta is so cheap. Ramen noodles are cheaper, but the American ramen has so much MSG, and I need to have a lot of healthy food in my system, especially I work out. I only spend a lot when I get Japanese food."

"How often do you work out?" Shun asked.

"I hit the gym at my college three times a week. I started doing boxing classes too."

"So that's how you have… those muscles." The dog-man's muscles were entrancing and captivating, and gave Kouya an ample sense of strength. The underweight, bad-at-basketball Shun admired Kouya's physical prowress. According to Shun's line of thought, Kouya can lift weights, he can play the guitar, he can do this, he can do that, and above all he was tough and strong.

"Yeah. I think it might help for you to work out sometime," Kouya said with a smile. "You might enjoy it."

At first Shun started, "Maybe…" He didn't exactly like working out, but… then he imagined Kouya wearing tight-fitting gym shorts. "… if it's with you!"

"Hey, maybe when we meet on the weekends we could work out," Kouya said. As soon as the water boiled, the poured in the amount of pasta needed to feed himself and his friend.

"Hey, Shun-kun, don't you have a shirt underneath that?" Kouya asked.

"Yes, I do," said Shun.

"Well, I don't want you to get tomato sauce on it. I think you should take it off when you eat." Shun proceeded to slip off his hoodie and it sat on the couch next to him. Now he was wearing his khaki shorts and a plain white T-shirt. His shoes were by the door, as were Kouya's.

After a few moments of stirring the pasta with his wooden spoon, he checked the consistency.

"It's _al dente_!" said Kouya. It was ready to eat.

Kouya re-purposed the computer chair as his own at the dinner table, while Shun used the smaller chair. Kouya had set up the silverware and napkins in the American style, and he put both bowls of the piping hot pasta in their respective places. Kouya had filled two glasses with water, and they also sat on the dinner table. After a single mouthful, Shun chirped, "This tastes good."

"Thanks, but it's nothing special. It's just from a store." Kouya continued to eat morsels of his pasta between every time he spoke.

"Now everything I eat is from a store too. Daddy and Gaku-san don't like to cook. Mommy cooks good food, but she lives in Japan with Iwao-sama."

"Hey, how did Iwao-sama like the performance? You didn't say anything about that."

"Well…" Shun uneasily said. "He just said I did what was expected but he thought it was nothing special." Shun's ears drooped and he stared down uneasily.

"Your grandfather should be proud of what you did. People in America love the Japanese culture, and I like how you are still in touch with your roots. Doesn't your grandfather like it that you are sharing his traditions with the world?"

"He-he should. I think it's because he's stubborn. He didn't want me coming here."

"He was the one who threatened to have you sent back if you didn't do well in school, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, just keep doing well, and I think his heart will soften, Shun-kun!"

"Thanks, Kouya-san!" Shun cried.

"You should eat up. Don't let it get cold!" And so Shun again ate his pasta, one spoonful after another, while taking some swigs from the glass of water.

"So, what do you have planned on Saturday?" Kouya asked.

"Well, I have Japanese school," Shun said.

"Aside from that."

"Well, I don't have any plans."

"Well, I have a concert, but it's 21 and over. It's in a really bad part of town too. I'm sure your father and your cousin may have something fun for you. See if your school friends have something fun too."

"I'm sure they will!" Shun smiled as he placed his spoon into the bowl, but he dug the spoon in a little too strongly, and it inadvertently caused the bowl to flip over, staining his white T-shirt. A few pieces of pasta hit the floor and the chair too.

"Hanyaa! My shirt!" Shun cried.

"Well, it's not your good shirt," Kouya said as he got out of his seat. He thought, "He's always gonna be clumsy." As he walked over, Kouya blinked.

"Shun-kun, it's on your pants too!"

"Hafu! Dad's going to be mad that my clothes are stained!"

The dog-man said, "I'll have to put some anti-stain stuff on, but I'll also have to wash it in the morning. I might be able to get it out." Kouya opened his sliding closet door and pulled out a stain remover spray bottle from one of the shelves next to the washing machine detergent.

"Okay," Kouya said as he held the squirt gun. "I'll see what I can do with your shirt." Shun removed his shirt, and Kouya held it to the table, spraying it with the remover and using his hands to scrub the shirt under the faucet of the kitchen sink, using extra elbow grease, Shun's slim body shivered, as that evening was a bit cold.

Shun trembled as he asked "Kouya-san, do… do I have to t-take my pants off?" Kouya could see that his eyes were darting to his side, and his face was pinkened.

"Shun-kun, not now!" a flustered Kouya cried. "Hold your horses… I'll get you something to change into. You didn't bring any extra clothes, so I'm not sure what we're going to do about that. Hmm…" Kouya placed the spray gun on the dinner table put his right hand to his chin as he thought of the best choice. Let him borrow a pair of pants? But Kouya's pants are bigger than Shun's waist, and Kouya only has one belt, which he was already wearing, and that belt was too big for his friend. Well, he could use Shun's belt. But he looked down and noticed that the wolf-boy had forgotten his belt. Then Kouya remembered he had pajama shorts with drawstrings. Shun could wear them and not trip over them.

"If you want I can get you a shirt and some pajamas, and I can wash your clothes so you can put them on in the morning."

"T-Thank you, Kouya-san," Shun said, before breathing a sigh of relief. Kouya opened the drawers and took out a pair of fuzzy green pajama pants. He rummaged through his shirt drawer to see what T-shirts he could find.

"How's this?" Kouya asked as he held up a black T-shirt that was Kouya's size, with "Detroit Rock City" printed in White on the front. He flipped it over, revealing the "KISS" in white lettering on the back. "That band is legendary around here, and that's the name of a pretty awesome movie. I'll have to show you the movie sometime."

"It looks really cool!" Shun said. Of course, a "Torque" concert T-shirt would be even better, as far as Shun is concerned, but Kouya didn't have any spares on him, and Shun figured it would be rude of him to ask for a specific shirt.

"Okay, Shun-kun. If you want you can go in the bathroom, change into the new clothes, and then give me your dirty clothes." Shun said he was fine with that idea. "Do you wanna use my bed?" he then asked.

"Kouya-san, thank you for the offer, but I'm just a guest."

"Would you be more comfortable with the couch?" he asked. Shun nodded.

Kouya handed Shun the pajamas and shirt, and then Shun disappeared into the bathroom. After maybe thirty seconds the wolf-boy emerged in the Rock City shirt and the pajama pants, making him look puffy and huge. Getting to stay with Kouya and borrowing his clothes made Shun feel like a rock star, and he kinda wished he could keep the shirt. Meanwhile, Kouya took the tomato-stained khakis from Shun and sprayed it with the stain remover. "After I take the stains out I'm going to hang them in the bathroom to dry, and then I'll wash them in the morning" Shun nodded, so Kouya ran into the bathroom, putting the khakis and T-shirt in the sink. He then emerged with an unopened toothbrush and toothpaste. After handing them to the wolf-boy he went to the closet and pulled out a gray, thin Northwest Airlines blanket and laid it on the couch. "You don't mind if you use the hoodie as a pillowcase, do you?" Kouya asked. Shun said he was fine with it, so as Shun brushed his teeth, Kouya put the finishing touch by slipping the hoodie on one of the small pillows and then setting it on one end, and moving the other pillow to the other end.. "I hope the couch is comfy enough," Kouya sighed. "I know it's not perfect."

"It's fine, Kouya-san. Thank you for letting me stay over!"

"Anytime, buddy!" Kouya said as he winked. Shun took a shower while Kouya swapped his jeans for another pair of pajama pants, partly because it was chillier and partly because he had a guest at his house. Shun then hopped onto the couch, curled onto the bed like a burrito, and rested his head on the pillow.

"Good night, Kouya-san!" Shun cried. But as his eyelids closed shut, Shun purred at the fanciful idea of sharing a bed with Kouya, being under the sheets with him.

"You too, buddy!" said Kouya as he gave a big yawn and shut off the lights. The dog-man tucked himself into his bed and attempted to sleep… at first he seemed to be dozing off… but then the pangs of hunger hammered away at him, and he rose to get some potato chips from the pantry. Man, he had the munchies. As he snacked on his chips, he briefly noticed Shun sound asleep, eyelids closed. Shun sighed softly when he slept. No snoring, no loud noises. A bit of drool trickled from his lips, wetting a bit of his hoodie. Kouya thought about rustling Shun's hair, and rubbing his back, or his chest. Maybe even getting under the covers and giving him a big hug? Maybe carrying Shun into his own bed and curling up with him? Nah, he needed to be left alone.

After a few more chips, Kouya got back into his bed and fell fast asleep.


	16. Chapter 10: The Apartment, Part 3

Shun's dreams took him to a sandy beach, with umbrellas in fruity colors propped around, just like the time he was at the lake with his father and cousin. There was Kouya, coming out of the water, in his speedo, with all of his physical features. Unlike that time, Kouya turned to Shun.

"Like what you see?" Kouya asked with a wink, as Shun could hear the waves crashing down and the caws of the seagulls.

"I, uhm…" Shun paused.

"It's fine. I know that you like seeing me, and I like that. Why don't we play in the water together?" Shun could feel himself melting upon hearing each word Kouya said. This was going to be such a lovely dream!

Then, a voice cried "Ha ha ha! You think you are mistaken, you punk!"

Shun flipped around and saw a monstrous-sized Saddam Hussein in his military getup, garnished with veins bulging in his forehead, and the drug dealer in his diamond-crusted hood-wear approaching him.

"How dare you oppose my tyranny!" cried the dictator.

"Shun-kun!" Kouya cried, but the drug dealer pulled his pistol and shot him once in the head.

"No!" Shun cried as he saw his hero make a splash. After turning back around, he saw he was at the mercy of two evil figures.

"You dared oppose me and refused to say 'Yes Yes Saddam'! I'm taking you to my dungeon!" Saddam screeched!

"Naw man! Why bother? Then I bet you some hero is going to rescue him? Don't you know what happens when the bad guy doesn't kill the good guy right away?"

"But the hero is dead, isn't he?" Saddam asked. The drug dealer scratched his head for a moment.

"Whatever, man," he said dismissively as he pointed a handgun between Shun's eyes, and he was dreading the moment that figure would pull the trigger, feeling the pain before it could register.

The wolf-boy's eyes were wide open as he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Shun-kun!" Kouya cried. He jumped out of bed and rushed to Shun's side. "Are you okay?" The frightened wolf-boy gasped for air, as Kouya cradled his body through the airline blanket. He could feel Shun's heightened heart rate and his rapid breathing. The high schooler's forehead was covered in sweat, and Kouya could see the fear leaving Shun's eyes.

"K-Kouya-san!" the wolf-boy cried. "I… I thought I was going to die… and you died!"

"It's only a dream," Kouya said with calmness, "it's going to be fine." Shun retrospectively realized his dream was kinda dumb, so he opted not to talk about what it was.

"Do you get bad dreams, Kouya-san?"

"I did shortly after I first came here."

"Was it because of the… the violence?" Shun asked.

"Yes. I couldn't believe it when I came here," Kouya said. "I was born in Tokyo, and lived there until I came to America. I moved to a town in Connecticut and lived there before graduating from high school. I couldn't believe what I heard and what I saw when I came here. I don't just see it on the news. I've seen people passed out. I think hopefully passed out, on the streets. That guy upstairs who is the drug dealer, I've heard loud arguments when I was on the fourth floor and I fear what could happen up there. And I've talked to people who say they've been in prison, their parents and siblings are on drugs or had been killed."

"Did you get used to it?" Shun asked.

"After four months here… I just got used to it. I expect to hear and see awful things now..."

"You're so strong, Kouya-san," Shun sighed. "I don't think I could get used to this."

"I'm strong?" Kouya asked.

"Well, your body is strong, and your mind is strong too," Shun answered with a smile.

"That's sweet of you, Shun-kun," Kouya said as he placed his right hand on the wolf-boy's hair, and rustled it a bit, threading his fingers through the strands of the wolf-boy's hair. "But I think it's scary when someone gets used to this arrangement. In my heart, I know it's not right, Shun-kun, but there are many people who get resigned to dealing with this. They have no sense of optimism, no belief that anything can get better."

"There has to be a way to make things better," Shun cried. Kouya moved the hand that he had placed on Shun's head onto the wolf-boy's shoulder.

"There are many people trying to do that here. They volunteer with charities, and they try to educate people so they don't fall into the same cycle of hopelessness other people do," The dog-man answered. After a beat, he said, "Look, I need to get back in bed, and you do too. You have a big day tomorrow." Shun nodded and shut his eyes as Kouya let go of him and climbed back into his own bed.

A loud, deep "Morning, sunshine!" roused Shun Kodori awake. He didn't expect to wake up in somebody else's house. After a moment Shun craped his head and checked the clock on the cell phone on the table next to the couch. It was 6:45 AM, and the sky outside was bright and sunny, illuminating the apartment. Kouya had just gotten out of bed, checking his phone. Shun Kodori slowly got up and let out a high-pitched yawn before emerging from the airline blanket that had served as his cocoon. "Did you sleep well for the rest of the night?" Kouya asked.

"I did, Kouya-san," Shun replied, without a trace of the fear that had gripped him through the night. Kouya smiled, relieved to see that his guest was happy.

"I've got some breakfast bars. Want some?" Kouya offered. Shun said okay, so as Shun brushed his teeth, Kouya entered the pantry and pulled out two wrapped Cheerios cereal bars. Moments later the two sat down to eat. Shun thought that they tasted too sweet. It wasn't a good sweet like it was with Japanese sweets… it had too much corn syrup that plagues American food. But since he was Kouya's guest he didn't say anything. "I'll be washing my clothes and yours in the laundry room. Wanna come with me?" Kouya offered.

"OK!" Shun chirped. Seemingly he was back to his old self, not haunted by the nightmares. But surely he would think about those tough issues, teenage pregnancy, crime, and violence, sometime later since he had been exposed to them in a single evening. But Kouya decided it was nice to see Shun in a good mood.

The laundry room was on the first floor down that ammonia-smelling hallway from Kouya's room. For about an hour Shun and Kouya sat on a steel bench in the washer room, a maze of large, ancient washers and dryers. It was more expensive than a nearby laundromat would, but Shun had to go to his Japanese school in a few hours, so the local option was the best choice. Nobody else was in the room; it was just the two of them. Shun had packed a second _Game Boy Advance_ and had Pokémon Red and Green, both with new save batteries that had been soldered by Gaku.

"I challenge you to a Pokémon duel!" Shun cried with his fist in the air.

"Heh, you're on!" Kouya said with a wink. And so… each time he lost in the two player link battle, he groaned "Crap!" "Dammit!" and "I almost had that one!"

At the end of the sixth battle, Shun said, "If you play more games, you'll get better at it!"

With a smile, Kouya said, "Same with musical instruments. The more you play, the better you get." After a beat, Kouya asked, "You think you'll go pro?"

"Become a professional video game player?"

"That's a possibility."

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do with myself, Kouya-san. That sounds like fun, though." Shun was engrossed in the conversation about video games. He wasn't talking about the tougher stuff like he was last night. Maybe he had moved on to other thoughts, but surely he would think about that stuff again, right?

"You've got some time to think about it." After the clothes were washed, Kouya and Shun returned to his apartment. Kouya unpacked the laundry bags and fished around for his friend's T-shirt and shorts. As Kouya pulled them out, he placed them onto the couch. Then he pulled out a pair of blue jeans, a black tank top shirt, and, while he believed Shun wasn't looking, a fresh pair of underwear.

"Shun-kun, I'm going to wash up. I'll be out in a minute," Kouya said as entered the bathroom while holding his clean clothes. A moment after the bathroom door was closed shut, Shun could hear a hissing noise from the shower system. Shun imagined what Kouya looked like in the shower: all wet and steamy and with no clothes on and with the smell of soap on his body and with the shower noise whirring. The thoughts made Shun's head feel lighter, and a sheepish smile widened across his face. Shun finished folding the airline blanket and removed his hoodie from the pillow, just to be courteous to his host, but as his thoughts raced, sometimes his work slowed down to a crawl.

After he had finished undoing the impromptu bed that his host had prepared for him, the wolf-boy thought it would be good to get ready quickly, so he decided change his clothes. Shun removed Kouya's pajama outfit, leaving himself in his underwear. At first Shun left the shirt and pajama shorts on the couch unfolded. However after a moment Shun realized he would be a far more considerate guest if he folded what he had borrowed. Instead of dressing in his own clothes immediately, the wolf-boy picked up the Rock City T-shirt that he had left on the couch and began folding it nice and neat. And with grace he laid the neatly folded T-shirt on the couch. Suddenly the noise from the shower cut off rather abruptly. It seemed kind of quick. Surely Kouya wouldn't take that short of a time to shower? Shun began folding Kouya's pajama pants.

Suddenly the bathroom door popped open. Plumes of steam flowed out, revealing Kouya, shirtless with his pecs and abs visible and well-defined. The deep indigo blue jeans were fitted snugly on his hips. The dog-man's hair was all over the place, moist from his shower. A towel went around his neck, absorbing some of the droplets of water on his body. Kouya clutched his shirt with his hands, maybe hoping to put it on after he dried off some more. Shun took a moment to stare at his crush's steamy body and its features. Then Kouya turned to his left…

"Hafu!" Shun squeaked as he realized he was undressed, like a chicken plucked of all of its feathers. He used his hands and Kouya's pajama shorts to shield his torso from Kouya's view.

"Ack!" Kouya cried as he hastily turned his eyes away. "Sorry, I didn't realize you didn't have your clothes on!" he cried.

"K- Kouya-san, I-I change in front of other guys at my school," he weakly muttered. But his cheeks were glowing red, his ears drooped, and his body had stiffened. It was that sense of vulnerability. Having Kouya half-dressed in front of him and having himself undressed made him feel nervous.

"Shun-kun, look, I'll look away until you finish dressing, okay?" Kouya cried with exasperation in his voice as he quickly put his shirt on.

"Th-thank you, Kouya-san," Shun gasped. The wolf-boy knew it was on accident, of course, but it still lead to conflicting feelings in his brain. On one level he felt humiliated that his crush had to see him in such a vulnerable state. But on the other hand a part of him liked it that Kouya saw him that way, and wished that Kouya could see him again like that.

After putting on his washed khaki shorts, his washed T-shirt, and the hoodie he used as a pillow, Shun said, "You can look now, Kouya-san." But his cheeks were still pinkened after Kouya turned around. Suddenly Shun heard his phone ring. He got a call from Gaku-san. Within fifteen minutes they were standing on the lonely city street, outside the brownstone. A Nissan Altima suddenly pulled up to the side, and Shun could see his cousin. Gaku's face curled, maybe after having taken in the sights of the Skid Row neighborhood.

"Shun-kun, let me know how your grades turn out, okay?" Kouya said as his farewell.

"I will, Kouya-san!" Shun cried as he got into the car. The door slammed shut and the Altima drove off. Kouya breathed a sigh of relief since the unexpected incident didn't seem to make Shun uncomfortable around him. But as Shun slumped back into the passenger-side seat, it hit him again… how he was privileged and had been shielded from everything he saw yesterday. At first he felt some guilt over being luckier than everyone else in that apartment complex. He wondered if it was possible to make things better… use his luck to benefit those not so lucky.


	17. Chapter 11: The adrenaline

Back in his room, Kouya checked his e-mail, and surfed some American news websites just to see what happened today. Nothing worth of note appeared on the screen and Kouya let out a sigh of boredom. "Maybe I need to see Eileen and see what she's up to," Kouya thought.

Seeing Eileen meant a walk down to the Green Meadow Restaurant, a brick and white panel one storey building on Second Avenue. Like that Jimmy Guy place, there were too many sketchy characters crowded around, looking for handouts, needing to be ignored in order to get in. The sign "GREEN MEADOW RESTAURANT" was written in red on a sign. Below the name of a restaurant, the smaller text "24 hours" was whited out; Kouya remembered Eileen telling him one day that with that crowd it was getting so rowdy that they can't stay open 24 hours anymore.

The inside reminded Kouya of those 1950's photographs of well-dressed teenage boys and girls sipping malts at the diner, with silver linings to the booth chairs and the retro menus, all hand-drawn. There was a man working the cooking area back there. Most of the customers who sat down were folks from the neighborhood, down and out. Back in the fifties, it must have been a simpler time. But Kouya could tell from the face of Eileen, the woman at the cash register, that those days were over. She was in her mid-forties but appeared to be in her sixties, with the extra wrinkles and warts. Her dirty blonde hair, already graying quickly, was in a small bun. She always had this scowl whenever Kouya saw her. The dour attitude was reflected in her gray blouse and black slacks. There was a good reason for her to wear that scowl, as Kouya saw a man approach the cash register, obviously about to grab it, but the woman's icy glare caused him to run out of the restaurant in a panic. Kouya wanted to say hi, but there was another person in line, and Eileen seemed to be busy. She seemed to be taking a long time counting the money. After a moment, Kouya gasped. That guy was paying only in pennies and nickels! Eileen grunted as she painstakingly counted each coin. No wonder she looked so old!

Finally, an opening to talk to her. He was about to say hi, only… a teenage boy with a baseball cap, a black T-shirt with an image of dollar bills in the center, sagging blue jeans, and a pair of Michael Jordans entered the diner with a swagger.

"It's the drug dealer who tried to get Shun-kun!" Kouya realized.

"Is it Trevor again?" she sighed.

"Lady, call me T-Rip! C'mon, show me some respect!" he announced as he held up his hands.

"I'm calling you Trevor and you are going to like it that I'm calling you Trevor!" she barked, not looking up from the cash register. Her voice had a twang from the Appalachia mountains. Some families had moved from Appalachia and had kept their accents up in Michigan.

"C'mon! Can't you see how I'm doing! Don't you wanna see what I'm up to? I got a new ride!" A beat-up red Pontiac Firebird Trans Am from the 1990s was parked outside. It's incredible that a 16-year old made enough money to get a beat up car. It would be less incredible if it had merely been stolen. "If you want me to hustle for you, I can get anything!" he promised. But that didn't matter to Eileen.

After a beat, she stared him in the face and spat, "I don't give a shit about you or your car. Get your drug-dealing ass out of here, you motherfucker!"

"Fine, you whore!" he cried in a fury. Thankfully, he walked out. If he had charged her, she had a pistol waiting for him.

"That guy's a real class act, isn't he?" Kouya sighed.

"Isn't he supposed to be in school or something?" she sighed.

"I know that guy. He just recently dropped out of school, and he's dealing drugs in my complex. He even tried to get my friend to do drugs while my back was turned."

"A friend?" Eileen asked. Kouya gave a smile, indicating that he much preferred talking about his friend. For a moment, he thought about the mix-up that morning. Kouya thought that Shun was too cute like that…

"Yes. His name is Shun and he is Japanese like me. He's a high school student who is living in Novi."

"What was he doing over here with you?" she asked with astonishment.

"I normally meet him in the library, but because of the storm last night he had to stay with me."

"Oh. How did you meet him?"

"I met him in a library. He came to America in August."

"That's nice," she said, with about the same amount of enthusiasm that Gaku used in his voice. She was quite tired of the nonsense she had to put up with daily, so she was worn out.

A man with a scraggly beard and torn clothes with holes in his shirt exposing his breasts and stomach, interrupted by saying, "Hey! Do you want this? I'll give it to you for three dollars!" He was holding a bag of toothpaste that he probably got from a social services agency.

"No thank you," Kouya answered. The man walked into the restaurant to try to bother the customers sitting down.

"How have you been doing? How's business?" Kouya asked.

"Not so good. Fewer and fewer people actually come in to eat, you know? They just try to sell the things they get from the Christian organizations."

"That's too bad. I've been trying to show Shun some nice things in the city. I'm sorry, I'd never be able to take Shun here," Kouya admitted. "The food is good, but he just…"

"I understand, Kouya. This isn't the place for some naïve kid from the suburbs."

"Well, I'll go order something and give you a bit of deserved business," Kouya said with a smile. "I think a hamburger would be kinda nice."

Band practice was at his canary-man friend's apartment in Ferndale, a city in Oakland County that was a gay mecca near Detroit. Kouya had been there a few times to look around for dates, but it was too expensive for him to live there full time. It was also a hangout for hipsters, and that must have attracted his friend Jonathan, who goes by the nickname "J". And so Kouya relaxed on J's leather sofa as he sipped a Vernor's as his guitar sat on his lap. June sat next to him, with her drums on the hardwood floor. J and Rob stood on the floor, with Rob holding his trusty bass.

"So, we're going to Harpo's tonight," J said.

"Are you sure we should be going there?" Rob asked.

"Yeah. If we do well at Harpo's, our profile increases. It's a tough crowd and they like good musical acts."

"I know, but it gives me the heebie jeebies!" cried Rob.

"We've been to clubs in the hood before," J pointed out with a sigh.

"I know, but I heard that place is kind of scary," Rob muttered as he shivered. "Really scary!"

"We're performing _tonight_, Rob," sighed June. "We can't back out now. We said we would do it. Suck it up."

Kouya said, "Look, we'll see what it's like. If we don't like it, we just don't go there again. Either way, if we do well, we get some cred." But deep down the dog-man wished he could perform at a safe club, like the one in Royal Oak, so Shun-kun could see him perform again. He realized he liked seeing him energetic and having fun… and he adored seeing him softly asleep, with the drool trickling from his mouth. Then the dog-man blushed thinking about the time he accidentally saw Shun in his underwear at the apartment, and Shun's flustered face when he realized Kouya saw him almost naked. Kouya was going to wait a while to ask him out, but what if Shun declared he was in love with him now? What if they kissed? What if Shun willingly undressed in front of him and they…

"Hey, earth to Kouya!" J cried. "We're gonna practice now!"

"Sorry, I was a bit lost in my thoughts," Kouya chuckled.

Harpo's Concert Theatre is nestled along Harper Avenue, north of Interstate 94 in the city's far east side. It was built in the 1930s as a neighborhood cinema, but today the venue was a nightclub. The venue still looked like an old-time theater, and it was a relative beacon of light compared to the closed shops and the big "ADULT VIDEO" store on the opposite side of the street. Kouya heard from Rob on why he was so hesitant to go there. Rob learned from a friend that the neighborhood had shootings practically every day and crack cocaine was a big commodity there. On the way there, June told Rob and Kouya not even bother venturing in the area. When she was young she lived with other Hmong in an eastside Detroit neighborhood and she knew that area by Harpo's was trouble. J revealed that he had friends from the eastside of Detroit that told him the same thing. As the Ford Bronco pulled off the interstate, Rob froze upon seeing the state of the decayed the neighborhood through the headlights of his car. He knew then and there that his bandmates were correct. Rob parked his car in the club's parking lot, hoping it wouldn't get broken into. Those who weren't diligent or lucky enough to arrive to the concert early would be forced to park on the street in the surrounding neighborhood.

As the group got the instruments out backstage, Kouya told everybody that he had to take a whiz. Kouya headed for the restrooms, but upon opening the door of the men's room a foul odor hit his nostrils, and he began to gag. The dog man didn't get the memo that club's restrooms weren't well known for their cleanliness. Then he noticed that the "OUT OF SERVICE" sign, a mere piece of paper with Scotch tape, had fallen off the door and was partially wet from being on the ground. At that moment Kouya thanked God that he didn't have to take a dump.

The dog-man had no choice but to duck at the back of the building, in the cool night air, and take a whiz there. Kouya checked around to see if anyone else was around, and confident nobody was there, he unzipped his jeans and began to urinate into the grass next to the wall. Without warning, a hippie-ish White guy exited the building and stood next to him, poised to take a piss.

"Hey man," the hippie guy greeted.

"What?" sighed Kouya. Why was this guy talking to him when he was clearly taking a piss?

"Did you hear about what happened out here, man?"

"No."

"Ten years ago to this day, Johnny Ray, that big rock star, was stabbed to death right here. The music out there was so loud that nobody heard his screams, and he bled till he was bone dry."

"That's… _lovely_."

"Yeah, it's sad, but it's life," the hippie guy sighed. Kouya, finished peeing, zipped up his jeans and re-entered the club without saying another word, but with something weighing him down.

In addition to being a grungy place, Harpo's was an odd duck venue that, from the inside, had decorations and furnishings that hadn't been changed since the 1980s. Some very famous musicians had performed at Harpo's. Its fame came from numerous punk rock acts giving it an edgy feel, and its foreboding location made going there a badge of honor for area suburbanites. Kouya and Co. sensed that they were on some pedestal once they entered the stage. At Harpo's it's six feet off from the ground, so those close to it have to look up to see the band. There was a large mosh pit right in front of them. The paint on the walls were pitch black, a trait seen in some Michigan nightclubs, and the venue had a dark, smoky feel to it. It didn't take long for the audience to assemble.

It was a 18 and up show, and was a mix of die-hard music fans from the suburbs and Detroit locals who wanted a good show. Torque's previous clientele was mainly those between 18 and 21 who were getting their first tastes of club music and patrons of smaller, fairly not-so-prominent clubs. From internet posts, Rob learned that these guys are well-versed in the club scene and a tough crowd to boot. To the band, if the news of the mysterious murders and the scary neighborhood weren't enough, the fact that their reputations as musicians were on the line was likely to induce a heart attack. But they had to impress these guys! Yet this fear was tempered with excitement, because if they did impress this discerning audience, their fame and reputations would go to new heights.

"Good evening, Detroit!" the canary-man cried on his microphone as the stage lights were trained on the band. A few scattered cheers came from the few in the crowd; many had read some good reviews of "Torque" from area alternative papers. But many others hadn't heard of them before, and just watched intently. "We're not exactly the most punkish out there, but we are going to deliver," J declared. Then with oratory passion he asked the audience, "Are we ready to rumble tonight?" The same people responded with a cheer. But the lack of response from other members of the crowd made Rob look on to J, and J could see the dilated pupils and the stretched face muscles exhibiting severe fright. June turned to Kouya and the stoic look on her eye told Kouya: Make sure to back me up.

"One, two, three, four!" cried June and the act was on. Perhaps the menacing feel of Harpo's and the eastside ghetto, and the adrenaline flowing through the veins of the band members from a mix of excitement and fear caused a more intense, less relaxed beat. Kouya remained on edge and wary, making sure he didn't make a sour note. He knew he had to keep his composure. He noticed sometimes the rhythm of June's drumming was a bit off, but he cleverly adjusted his guitar playing to flow with it.

The band had a good first impression they needed to make. Would they do it? As the first song picked up steam, the cheers from the audience grew louder, the audience was rocking up a storm in the mosh pit. At the end of that song, the _entire_ audience gave a loud cheer.

"Thank you, thank you! I'm glad you like it!" cried the canary-man.

And so the band continued its act song after song, keeping the audience well entertained. At the end, Kouya, Rob, June, and J were exhausted, but giving the audience what they paid for, and more made them feel good. It's the feeling one gets from earning an A after taking a hard test, or winning a grueling athletic competition.

After the end, the group relaxed in the backstage area. The three beastmen sat on a torn leather couch, with holes galore and cigarette burns. June, the sole beastwoman, was standing next to the kit containing her drums.

Rob cried, "Man, I hope they didn't break into the car…"  
J said, "They provide on-site security for the cars, don't they?"  
Kouya said, "They said they do, so you'd think they'd have it."  
June sighed, "Rob, I need to get my cell phone out of the car since I need to give a call to my sister. I may as well take my drums in too. Can I have your keys?" Rob reached into his jeans pocket and tossed his car keys to her.  
"If nobody broke into it, I'll be really happy!" cried Rob. J sighed, annoyed at Rob's preoccupation. It wasn't even his good car!  
"You guys can deal with the manager to get paid for the act," June said as she collected the quite heavy kit, and lugged it outside.  
"Yeah, I heard sometimes the management here doesn't pay their musicians so we have to dog them to get our payment," J said.  
"That's a problem," said Rob. They waited a fair while for the manager to appear.

"When's the manager coming, anyway?" asked J.  
Out of the blue, Kouya sighed, "Dammit, I need to take a whiz again."

In the parking lot outside, June Moua let the quite heavy drum box sit on the ground as she took a moment to relax and brush away her long hair. The keys to Rob's car were safely in her pocket. As she picked up the drum kit and walked towards her friend's Ford Bronco, she paid little attention to two loiterers standing in the parking lot, but as soon as she was outside, they paid attention to her. The parking lot security Harpo's had promised hadn't materialized.  
"Hey man! She looks yummy!" one of the loiterers said to the other. June said nothing and continued walking past them. The two loiterers, both of them fairly well-built and taller than her, began following her.  
"C'mon, lady, don't you want to say hello?" one of them said.  
"Go away," the calico cat-woman curtly responded without turning around.  
"Aw, don't be like that!" cried the other one, loiterer #2. "You've got some sugar for me, huh?"  
"Fuck off."  
"You know something, you are being a rude little bitch," loiterer #1 said as he grabbed her shoulder. She let go of the drum kit instantly. His facial expression was quite condescending towards her. "You need to…"  
"I said FUCK OFF!" June cried as she turned around and socked loiterer #1 in the face. He was knocked out cold. The man's face was puffed red, and fragments of a few of his teeth had fallen onto the ground, shattered.  
"Shit!" cried loiterer #2 as he reached into his pocket. But before he fire the pistol he had taken from his pants pocket, June kicked it out of his hand. The gun had fallen into a sewer grate. He had no choice but to fight offensively with his fists, and so the two entered a tango, swinging fists and dodging them.  
"You fucking bitch!" loiterer #2 yelled as he attempted to punch her out. Her martial arts skills were well-developed, and she dodged his every move. But she had a glaring weakness. Without warning, the man latched onto June's long hair with his broad hands and began pulling on it sharply. She cried out as he used the momentary advantage to gain a chokehold over her. He had a "you're mine" grin on his face, and just as he was about to put his hands on her body…  
A deep male voice demanded, "Let her go." A husky dog-man, one with eyes with a sharply focused gaze, approached Loiterer #2 as he held onto the calico cat-woman.  
"The fuck do you want?" asked the loiterer.  
"Let her go and get the fuck out of here," ordered Kouya.  
"You ain't telling me what to do," yelled the thug as he shoved aside June and raised his fist towards the dog-man. Kouya dodged the man's fist and sent an uppercut into the loiterer's jaw before he could recognize the fruits of Kouya's martial arts training. Loiterer #2 collapsed onto the ground unconscious.  
"You okay, June?" asked Kouya as he approached his friend, sitting on the ground.  
"Y-yes, I'm fine," as she regained her breath. Her forehead was running with sweat and her heart rate was high.  
Kouya helped her onto her feet and gave her a reassuring hug.  
"Let's go out as a group next time," Kouya said as he grabbed June's drum kit. Rob and J just exited the building at that moment.  
"What happened?" asked Rob, who was shocked upon seeing two men unconscious on the ground. June, on the verge of crying but keeping her composure, told her friends what had happened. The quite relieved Rob made it clear that both Kouya and June could have been shot.  
"I'm getting a haircut tomorrow morning," concluded the shaken June.

Kouya liked to hit the gym three times a week. Sunday was a great day since he could stay for longer periods of time than whenever he went on a weekday. The Mort Harris Recreation and Fitness Center was a brand new facility with many kinds of exercise machines, a track, and a climbing wall. It also had group exercise rooms where Kouya did his boxing lessons. The dog-man preferred working out in a pair of black athletic shorts and a plain white tank top shirt, perfectly suited for strenuous activity.

On free exercise days Kouya typically would run the treadmill for 30 minutes or do several laps around the track to improve his general constitution. Then he would try cardio and weights, with both the weight machines and the freestanding weights. Keeping up his strength was important for his self-esteem, as he liked having strong muscles, and for his romantic prospects, as many guys (Shun included) liked his physique. But more importantly, as he reflected on last night, this strength could help him defend others and protect himself in such a rough town.

After the time at the gym he would often just take a shower in the locker room. All alone in a shower stall, with the curtain drawn and the steam rising, he would take just a moment to think about things. He was excited about the prospects of becoming a bigger act, a more recognizable force in town. But what would this do to his music? Could he cope with the fame? Will this mean he should make music his full time profession?

After his workout, Kouya, now dressed in a motorcycle jacket and blue jeans, briskly walked away from the gym, holding a black duffel bag with his gym clothes. The day was beautiful and the grass was a crisp shade of green. It was just quiet, and his motorcycle was parked right over…  
"Hey man, I saw what you did back there at Harpo's!" a loud voice cried. Kouya saw a well-built weasel-man sitting on a bench, dressed in a white muscle shirt and a pair of black jeans. He had the grace of a male model waiting for a photo shoot.  
"Thanks," Kouya said. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."  
"Well I'm a party promoter, and I thought I could get you some work," the weasel-man offered as he stood up from the bench. Upon closer examination Kouya could see that the weasel-man's arms and neck were covered in tattoos. In Japan such tattooing was far less common, especially since it could easily be interpreted as links to organized crime. In America even college-aged girls were often getting little tattoos. But full-body ones like what the weasel-man had were not so common.  
"That doesn't sound so bad. What's your name?" Kouya asked.  
"Darren Larson. But call me D-Man!" Darren raised his fist.  
"I'm Kouya… Kouya Aotsuki." Kouya raised his and they did a bump.  
"So you are.. a Chinese guy?"  
"Japanese," Kouya quickly corrected.  
"Oh, okay. Don't you have a nickname?"  
"I don't, but my friend Jonathan has the nickname J."  
"That's what's up! Do you perform solo?"  
"I haven't in awhile, but… I could if I have time."

"Think about it, man. I have some parties but I've had trouble getting some good acts for them. They might need some solo, or they need a whole band."

"Who goes to the parties?" Kouya asked.

"Well, it's more of a hip-hop thing, you know. But I think your tune would work out well."

"Do you do all ages?" Kouya asked out of curiosity.

"Man, hell no. It's just for the big boys," Darren laughed.

"What, is it like an act with strippers or something?" Kouya laughed.

"Well, some of them might indeed be," D-Man smiled. "Often they like to hire, you know, ladies in bikinis with big booties dancing around. You might enjoy some of them, huh?"

"I'm gay," Kouya clarified.

"Ohh…" Darren gasped. "Well, it's cool if you're gay. I even sometimes go to the Woodward Bar and Grill to see the performances."

"That's a gay bar."

"I know," Darren smiled. Kouya had a puzzled expression on his face. This man had some aggressive energy that he liked… it reminded him of his first boyfriend back in Connecticut. But he wasn't sure if he was coming onto him… There was a black term, "the down low," that indicated that people were hiding their true sexualities. Was he on the down low?

"So, why don't you give me your phone number?" Kouya asked. The two traded numbers on their cell phones, and then…

"Hey man, I'll catch you later!" Darren hollered as he went on his way, walking down the street.


End file.
